Anthrax Is Big

Let's start my story, it's story,
The juggernaut - enrage,
Stepping on convex sticks,
Slaughter the sage.
Rusted poppy plants, tundra-
Follows- the anxiety employed sorrows.
I siphon more than they pop,
Global warming is only six feet and five inches,
Underneath my cartilage compass.
I constantly stampede, begun the slow,
Slumping, trampling, laying, smothering
Choking on spores, I only saw the black warts grow,
Amber green forest that take my view,
Fade to...
Green? A first person specter?
Another life in making, possibly?
I - eye help!
Snobbish though, child,
They ripped my skin,
And more! sudden saw blades wild,
A family, harvesting me?
Déjà vu, striking one, twice, thrice,
Seven. Times.
Their corpses snugging tight,
No fight,
But clarity I see now never sought,
I too am a micro-j'naut
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: new,realization,sickness
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COMMENTS
tkessler 20 April 2018
This poem was harder - but I loved your creativity in in your poems architecture and design - your themes provide honest insight! You have creative talent!
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