To hell with an easy death

Draw the dirt of disgrace
across your coal black face.
Carve deep furrows
in the flaccid flesh
of empty foreheads.

Sing the song
of sheep,
shorn and slaughtered.
Offering tribute to the butcher
and his bloody knife

Is enemy too strong a word
to describe this act of cowardice
or bile too bitter an aftertaste?

The rancid reflux
of poison tainted words.
The stench of vomit
drilling holes in clay plugged ears.

Impotency is;
Not to spit in the face
of a false God,
come to harvest
eyes and ears
and finger nails,
to blind the meek
and blunt the raged.

Don’t spend your coin
beating breasts.
Like scuttling spiders
climbing towards
the blue tip of
the Bunsen burner.

Faith is no bullet proof vest,
it’s a target painted
on a numbers chest.

Fight you fucking
bastards,
riot on the road to
filthy graveyards,

Despise the gift
of rotten plots,
the only real estate
they’ll let you own.

swell the ranks of
angry mobs,
defy the hands that
deal you death,
Play peekaboo with
them instead

-Dave Kavanagh

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