Follow The Despot

military spoken word

Challenging, tingling rows of leather boots
tramp down your skin – not for lack of knowledge
of what’s about to end

Harmony in the flag’s submissive, limp dance
in the wind a sorry whimsical state we can find
ourselves in…at any time

further away along the banks of where it was supposed to end
is the courage now found in
the opposite ends of strife between men
following the fears of one
rebirth pure; exist in snow
until the last season upon all

take their final bow before those arbitrary medals
of rank and achievement before filing out to
face that mirror all cannon and bayonet strike to

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Lord Bison

Jazz-soaked spirit running circles around despair...or something like that. Really. Lover of words, lover of being in worlds New Yorker, artist, Virgo besieged by airhead tendencies akin to Libra moves. Bronx is home base. Began an obsession with writing at seven and twenty-odd years hence, still at it. Enjoy/love/hate/be bored/appreciate to your heart's content. Or something like that.

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