Columbine

i wrote this poem a few years ago about a few years before that

we evaded the triangular stench of the collection agency aardvark's rip-off scams,
drank tree coloured brews in coffee houses on empty stomachs with poppy red shirts, bad hair (without berets), 
and bongo drums beat out our dreams in booming perfection,
and we rambled on with pidgin English and tethered tongues about the evil empire's lust for blood and Molochian madness
and we raged with flame shaped eyes and meant it 
"we are the future"
and we looked for jewels
under city lights, 
in muddy bogs
with fractured love and broken hearts
in Middle Eastern towns,
but we only found rusty bolts
and if truth be told
and we were Neo-Beats
then we were browbeats, or deadbeats


oh how we want your Everest eyes and raised torch lady liberty 
sweet harlot


Columbine