Damocles

By lip_music

I could take a knife and cut
the middle finger from my hand,
gospel songs and freedom as the ichor spurts,
jives around like Moses.
as Cosmo says,
‘tis clearly a no-no
and yet today you’ve done far worse


the finger now
is twitching like departing fish
at a market sale in Tokyo
what think you?
can I mend it?
blend it
arrange it with a credit card
and snort,
Nasal bolognese to frighten little children


stop looking at me funny –
snow worse than your ways:
attending to nightclubs in Parisian style
you garble French into porcelain
shove glass into faceware
you are searching for the kind of love
that sends good folk to clinics


Oh, how I tire
of dreaming out for Hollywood
Just slip me what I wish for:
a world tattooed with both our face
your name carved on a thousand cows
his n hers
a massacre of innocence
a branding of the unrequited