Sir Corpse Head
Blithering geriatric inanities Corpse Headed Marionette approaches the podiumDrooling corruption from a cess pit soul
Staring into dead air with blank teleprompter eyes,
Flickering a sick lizard tongue just behind dark curtained wings
Some lethal shadow form waits for his death
Climaxing with the promise of power and ascension to a crumbling throne
Of mythic fear and awesome propaganda smear
Corpse Head moves mouth, stretches withered lips tight across
National Screen
Something Obscene
Controls the controls
So low and mean
Ing gets lost in the words that drip like lime or alkaline veins
Or a forest of insects and poisonous spiders weaving preposterous skeins
To choke out Light and Breath,
Behold The Corpse Headed Marionette
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 381 times
Written on 2020-12-30 at 00:31
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