Oh Wow

When the horizon turns black 
From too many white elephants in the room
When the Wright brothers take a wrong turn
End up on the ground to dust and mud
Who knows sunspots may only be holes poked in spite
Perhaps the body epolitical is a Frankenstein 
Monster fed by twisted servants of a digital now
Religion drugs the mass praising a holy cow
While writhing in octo-spazz the sheep bleat out 'Oh Wow'
When the time wrings rung the clocks all sprung
Tinsel pendulums pit and miss
Paper mâché accolades are hung
Listen the boots begin to hiss
Just pin this pale on a plaque
When the horizon turns black






Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2013-12-11 at 10:15

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Åsa Andersson
This poem needs to be read out loud. It has a rythm and a drive that I like a lot.
2013-12-11