mercredi 17 février 2010

The Liar



what more can i say
than what's been said before
that every word is a two-edged sword
that the pen is mightier than an arm
and heaven help the liar
who rides the moon and stars
with her dissonant chord

she has a long way to fall
she thinks and thinks upon
the bottoms she has won but
sinks in the stink of
her own bitter tongue
the classic language of harm
she has wrought upon the world

she dresses well but
reeks beneath of dung
her own dung thrown like
pearls before the throng
and smiles as she watches them
eat but then growls aloud
as they vomit out her feces

the liar is a whore with
peacock feathers stuck up
her arse, she parades
her worth back and forth
upon the earth and
swallows whole her own
reflection in the clear glass pool

of hell where she takes
while claiming to give, give, give
and then fakes a quick step
across the yard to play
racquetball with demons
and she'll cheat if she must
to prevail the sainted martyr

she's a genius but only in
one arena, how she tricks
the open-hearted and
lesser gods, she's one
smart broad who can
play the dying swan while
still breathing freely

but if cornered like a
wild dog she'll rip out
your heart, better believe it
so it's best just to leave her
with her games and her feces
and any fool who needs them
and quietly but quickly shut

the door, and leave her
charms to the infernal world
where they belong
pick up a new feather
chant a grieving song
and move on, child, move on

(2000)

1 commentaire:

Garth a dit…

oooh-wee! Remind me not to get your hackles up :D
Powerful and scathing indeed.