Happy go freaky funhouse
Ringling Rambos reality-checking
Resides in realms too dark
To compromise about.

Sappy soft silk slippers
Soaked in dark chocolate syrup.
Send the lieutenant to training school,
I say. That’s the ticket!

So many strong resemblances
Of rowdy rejects raping villagers
While smiling ear-to-ear!
Shoot them all, I say!

Run them through,
Step on their heads,
Castrate the devils!
Throw them to the lions!

So what else is new?
Such seeking repairs
From the juggling pairs!
I like pears to eat!

So many bears sinking through hairs
Around the walls of sticky sorts.
Tangled teasers stinking around
Stay sworn to loyalty to go.

So do you run to and fro
When they call your name?
I run anyway,
Whether or not they call my name.

It’s all the same, really.
Swords slit the throats of sordid angels
And bugs converge on them.
And what is left? Filth!

Four quiet koala bears hopping along
In sleeping bags, wondering who
Will fight off the flu,
And who will say no to you.

Quivering stapler heads converge on queer rearranged ruckuses, still
Same strong realized rancor
Rudely roundhouses the real thing.

Stop taping my arm up, crackerjack joe!
Triumphing times over today,
So many simple sounds
Available for reckoning.


Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

One thought on “Reckoning”

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