Don’t Listen To The Siren

by William Skink

ruby sun I better run
as sirens start to wail
unholy notes like spiky motes
thrust behind my veil

I must say beyond the fray
twins may spin and sing
but I discern transhuman worms
and other wicked things

owls hoot and lasers shoot
as dewey dew drops drop
then double bubble toil and trouble
as news of Q goes hot

fire serpents circle round
my Virgo-19 heart
the day they pulled a scream from tongue
and cut my skin apart

ruby suns and sugar buns
selling cutie pies
onion peelers and tuning healers
it's time to fix our eyes

About Travis Mateer

I'm an artist and citizen journalist living and writing in Montana. You can contact me here: willskink at yahoo dot com
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1 Response to Don’t Listen To The Siren

  1. Djinn&Tonic says:

    scorching! words… I get it. Thank-you. As Pound said, the poet is the antenna of the race. The human race.

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