Monday, August 27, 2018

day FIVE HUNDRED and EIGHTY FIVE

Realizing

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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