Pietas

[shemthepenman]

Today, upturned, I look for the lie, --- great word choice here, as if you need to be told.
the strawberry syrup disguising the base
that drips from the tongue of the mockingbird mime
to a crystal decanter of sky. --- oh very nice reworking of these two lines; the 'crystal decanter of sky' really does much better here.*

Where truffle pigs root through a midden of pearls
all stamped with a date of expiry
inspiring stampedes as the dogma decrees
with a sniff from its perch in the sun. --- o fuck, this stanza is lovely to read.

And nobody looks in their pockets,
and nobody stands on the ground; instead
they despair, with their feet in the air
and I bleed, but their glasses are empty. --- again, cannot fault it.



*Yes, recycling lines

I really enjoyed this. took me a while to get round to it, but worth it.

*anyhow, I know it sounds strange, due to it being completely different and unrelated, but the Bolan song I think I was thinking of is 'Chariots of Silk' - in particular:
'A mad Mage with a maid on his eyebrows
Hunted the realm for a God
Who could teach him the craft of decanting [I misremembered this part]
The glassy entrails of a frog.'