Atheist in stained-glass

A despot in the house
refuses others entrance—
the extreme condescension
of a boy so ex-nihilo—

Hobbes was whipped too much—
now a hermit in his grave—
to detest—to self-profess—
how awful is the dust—

to die—a glimpse at best—
the body is a captive
for the maniac inside—
he grows bald and restive—

a man of twenty-one—
he thrives on what’s undone—
how curious his entrance,
how thrilling a consumption—

to see in every man an addict—
you too are unraveled—
an exegete one notch removed
from the shade and a gavel—

how holy that common lot—
a gathering of slaves
modern in the making—
a rueful proletariat—

trials wreck the senses
and solution mars the cells—
ruin greets the least
and language undoes itself—


~ by Jeremy on June 21, 2013.

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