Not Afraid of Rain

Saints do their time just like everybody else
but they just can’t catch a break
their epilogues all writ
in golden language but their
chapters raggedy, potato sack cloth
luxurious – no, that was a joke
falling into grace one stubbed toe at a time

Finally, a realist out of the bunch
he snatched his soul out of the lion’s mouth
and shook a mild-mannered fist toward what might
have been the source of his trials
beginning here, his woman, her mouth a
thin line of hope barely breathing
yet tastefully chaste in its uncertain
the kingdom of now is always raggedy
in imagination’s foyer
Plug thine ears with the roar
Cherish the coliseum dirt


more by LORD BISON 

CHECK OUT That Golden Woman – A Spoken Word Album by Lord Bison

Photograph by Eric Thriller


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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