Slipping Quill
I was weaving a waking dreamWalking in a utopian city of paper whiteMy quill slipped in a sudden moveThe ink then made a genocideMy dream now I find surroundedBy dictators penis-erect in blackened cloaksAnd gouged-out red-eyed priests robed in whiteAppearing in the flesh to my rightThe Devil in sermon on the couch loud:“Refuge you shall take to the company of DevilIn the court of men of horror and of evil”
12 Apr 2022