Obedience School

So smug, content
lines dribbled along cracked facades
cradled words
piss-stained awards.

Another sacred hermit
has a grave on your desktop.
Nail-bitten, bleeding heirs
smiles unheard
by your shackled eyes.

“No newbs in our club,” you said.
Your epitaph agreed.

So high, surreal
the volcanoes in your hair
claw my spineless dreams.

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2 thoughts on “Obedience School

  1. the closing para is striking

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