Poem: Winds To Ninety

 

Winds To Ninety

 

whips excite rifts,

emptiness sacrificed on a hectic altar,

guzzles of somersaults,

sacrifices of twists, 

gallows of invisible guts.

 

headlong,

only to vanish in bursts and busts,

mocking tides, mocking gardens,

mocking weather, moons, and seasons

with the abominable doppler

of an irremediable howl.

 

gusty in the lush graveyard,

ghosts spray and bark,

no clock to check unclothed rants,

salve the savage sacrilege

or the cacophonic philippic.

enemy of the calm,

enemy of the conformed,

enemy of the praised, the rectified,

the vogue.

 

hectic flecks

swipe, spasm, slither,

torn from a tree bent humble as grass.

they churn up tears petrified yet splintered--

miserable arch illogical tears

of a stabbing, dying rain.

 

it bites our faces, windy wet curse,

inflicting lycanthropes lost:

fangs, muzzles, hackles, features,

they stretch our fake snarls in false hungers,

gleeful before an arena of gods,

lofty gods, cruel gods,

lunging on.

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9/10 fixed typo  ("bursts" replaces "burst")

9/9 ... really hard poem to work... edited phrases hours after posting... still bad...