A Mass Movement Poem by Dorsey Baker

A Mass Movement



Where sex is the slave; not the master,
The whole-
Finish is faster.
Apple hangs longer
From the tree,
And as beautiful-
As this might be,
The eyes
Fail to see-Such a
Sizable family.
Savage urges satisfied; the
Serpent was killed
And is dead; but
His mouth remain open wide-
Darkness is in a place-
Where light once did reside,
And the serpent is lying
Lifeless-
Upon the ground,
Next to the tree!

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