The Rotten Mane

Earth nameless stumbles into human form,
     a suit derides in mealy pleats;
the phaeton drops them at the curb,
     his cape over his klannish sheets;

Dim don treads, alligator shoe-horned,
     toward his minaret of unflinching greed;
composure escapes him, a raped morn,
     liberty lady ravaged need not plead.

The vouch of slime undoes his tongue,
    all fair and noble creature recoil;
rather air or water to quench his lust,
     don's bearings gurgle Oil.

Land promises, evict the rotten mane
of Tyrant's Tirades and more of the Same.





12-14-17

Mt Tabor, Oregon