Part 1: The Pump
Royal blood, real hot,
Draining in, draining out
In a deliberate vacuum –
Dying. Insured people
Sucking viruses- banned injections
Let them put faith in these
Sweet and sour juices
Of love.
Salty blood, seven shots
Of obscure red-wine –
Chemical solutions painting red.
Gross, stark crimson,
Like your royal lips.
Royal blood, real hot.
Never mind.
Part 2: The Motor
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Go on. Go forth.
Move around.
Remain innocent - young
Bloods. It's running -
Sucking all the pollution,
Making fresh liquors.
Rich liquors- full of hormones.
Tomato ketchup.
Part 3: The Batteries
#1
New face. New dawn.
Put on the switch.
Let the roller coaster ride
Begin - Punk kids,
Rosebuds, rolling.
It's electric!
#2
New face, old people
Mating- in virtual space;
Blue is the colour of blood,
And this 'F' word.
Old men, vegetarian, awaken-
Old carrots, tasteless soup.
Melting cathodes.
Platonic love, made-up face,
Double date. Roll over
To the washroom.
Part 4: The Wires
Working people, hearing bells;
Bells of lunch break -
Tomato sauce, dead meat.
Fresh blood of experienced wives
On their shirts.
Stains of faded lipstick,
Dark red. Time for
Power nap.
YOU ARE READING
Apathetic Symbols (And An Out-of-work Blood Vending Machine)
PoesíaThere's something I wanted to do after coming back from my incognito status. SO, I thought I would work with typographical symbols. Hope you'd like it.
