The Fool

The Fool

Spent three months
Drowning myself
A dunking test
Into spent shells

Cracked against
An egging edge
Marble top counter
Point wavering

Used up sharps
Thrown reckless
With abandon held
Addiction as art

Nude david vein
Sling impotent
Pulsing his ivory
Foot beckons

A heart of stone
Stupid blind boy
The artist long
Dead but for this

Dream of flesh
Pygmalion spitted
Inside his hand
Mallet poised

Began to swing
The bird circling
A hereditary trick
Breaks a soft neck

Pluck tar feather
Make of an idiot
Slavish fatalism
Ingrown history

Friends of judgement
Heads shaken rye
Ignored warnings
Cradling my snake

Bear our witness
Cassandra pale
Familiar venom
No one to suck

Such slow poisons
Course unhindered
An easy antidote
A withheld cure

No small death
This will be
A symbiotic
Massacre

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