Thursday, April 02, 2020

Extra Pound Unsound

Closer, and closer, to the iron point,
a yearly metal meal waits to anoint
the king with blood and metal mystery,
a rite held, as each date in history,
a ritual to cleave from joint each joint.

Extra Pound dreams of a medieval mystery meal, a sacrifice turned sacrament, shrouded in time's dark miasma.

'Editional' Thought: Maybe I should title the poem "Sacremetal."



At 9:12 AM, Blogger Carter Kaplan said...

Ah, with this one you've got ol' Extra by the toe!

At 10:42 AM, Blogger Horace Jeffery Hodges said...

Extra has a toe?

Jeffery Hodges

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