poems

pickle juice

a virus now grows in evergreen fields

and a putrid culture is reanimated to consume

all that remains is a timeline of doom

inside drinking pickle juice

smoking a cedar pipe of pine

waiting to glimpse the holy light

to give is to receive, especially death

as blood is shed on family crests

who can divine what may come next

beyond the wall of fear and sex

life is provided under set conditions

with no exceptions to the golden rule

who would even seek to disobey it

only a female or a brazen fool

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