By popular demand... if you count the applause in my head! For any poets out there... The sestina is a challenging form. Check it out: poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/5792 Wal-Mart (Sestina) We have permission to walk through the door. Night-time zombie bliss framed by silver sky that has brought us from deep slumber once more. Akin to androids devouring soft light, consumer dreams feed implements of war. Resistance is vain, she knows they will bite. We bleed green as envy treating her bite. With no choice, we recoil from the door. We are now on the inside of this war, with no memory of the silver sky, under showers of ultra-violent light. We came in peace but these zombies want more. This black and white grainy film score, once more, will seduce you to seize a modest bite. Tall shadows fall, consumer-eating light, it is this darkness that consumes the door, and bleeds out pink clouds in darkening sky. We fight and beg to end this futile war. If it is war they want, they will get war. If it is more they want, then give them more. Wanton choices screen the odious sky, we are given the choice to take a bite. We are in too deep to look for the door, one last shot at the liberating light. In this place, they never turn out the light. They televise revolutions of war, and do everything to blockade the door. Their greed is a sickness of needing more, as they encourage you to take a bite, from the needs of the insouciant sky. As we retreat, there is no silver sky, and this zombie-darkness consumes our light. This apple of Sodom you cannot bite, on the evening of the birth, or the war. There is a way to seek free will once more. There is freedom, if you can find the door. The exit door, exposed war and light gray skies everywhere the cold air bites. Our only hope for shelter here is a Target. Put on your “Juicy” shorts baby, we have to go to Wal-Mart.
Posted on: Tue, 18 Jun 2013 04:45:56 +0000
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