Hesiod tends his sheep and farms
until the Muses meet.
Great songs and lyrics then do rise
on the industry of Crete.
Genes are spliced and welded
and still sheep do as will fit,
a didactic diatribe on the veils
of when the species split.
Two heads, one eye and extra limbs
to reap for hearth and home,
for modern poets well do know
value in composable genome.
Strife and such rising tides
halt progress in its tracks.
Animals and humans preach
the virtues of their backs.
Civilization makes the hero
bleat at the concourse walls.
With mythological precision,
the avuncular chorus calls.
A canto of fragments pitched
on the fork of a shameless witster
tells you all the moral tale
of ribonucleic glister.
-- tim
bwah hahaha
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
YOU ARE READING
Succulent Skin
PoetryAs an ongoing work conceived with no rigid form or rule over content, many subjects receive treatment in widely varying voices and styles. To go with a lot of the unstructured free verse, there are even a few pseudo-rap or hip-hop styled pieces, pro...
