To unsee
Mammon, the son of the Devil, is a
certain kind of task.
Ridding yourself of
the smell of pine in your brain
and your
nose and your memory
Love & Hate use
memory the most. We propped
up,
we braced, we buttressed, the Prince
of Coins insidious and mouthful.
No words
metal on metal, paper on paper, fire
on skin.
Chewing, dribbling, drooling,
blathering, Apollo’s Arrow is required,
but this son is real. If you have faith
in life
and waking up tomorrow,
the color
red absorbs all other colors but blood.
--Paul Koniecki
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