Exhumation of the Forgotten

“Oh, good grief! How you do stand the-“

“Shh. Shut up and swing about.”

~*~

In passing of breathing pain –

a seldom voiced weight –

what prevents the difference

from crawling up a wall

and sainting the rib

into the murals of history?

In behest of tantalizing,

how does the blurry,

little drawing pecker itself

into a cubicle of still pretense?

That bastard!

That animal of mortal sense

running around against itself!