Monday, 28 March 2016

Ventriloquist Dummy



Comical wooden lips
Erect on cadaver mouth to speak unspeakable words
As you sit on its lap
That Thing speaks
But through static lips
And you sit
You sit
As a stone laid to rest
On some unknown’s grave

Sing for the clapping crowd crunching seeds
Fixed gaze as unblinking night owls
A dolorous tune
Dissipated in sweaty scathing air
As you bake along with the comical mass
Served upon a dish

Splinters of ebony wood and charred remains

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