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splinterswerve
Calgary, Alberta, Canada
splinterswerve.hotmail.com

 

Text by Matt Smith, Image by Peter Redecopp

(click here for a full-size view of image)

You try
To die,
But buy
The cry.
You read,
You bleed,
But never
Succeed
To blot
The thought
Of all that
You got.

* *

To feel
You'd reel
To steal
A meal: 
It's God
You laud
With that old
Tin rod.
Pay out!
You'll tout
To the world
No doubt.

* *

That's rot!
He's taught
Us not
That thought.
Weeds grow.
They blow
In the wind,
And sow.
It's Chi,
You see.
That's all it
Could be.

* *

The books
That brook
That look
Have took
Their share
Of care.
You know they
Can't dare
To blink
And think
And sit in
The stink.

* *

You're right--
Our plight
To sight
This blight.
I'll spend
To mend
A bruise and
A bend.
To dust
Unjust,
We live as
We must.