02-17-2018, 04:54 AM
Halloween: The poet sees the end in apples
Apples, bobbing
in an ocean of pain. Twice the harrier
sorrow swooped in on my sobbing
heart. Why don’t you love me, asks the meadow of the sky (it’s dark
and the sun has set on Sodom,
now heaven’s fire will make it warm),
the sky is silent, it knows G_d’s plan.
When I saw you with a man,
I knew it was time for brimstone
to fall
on a burning hacienda.
It’s not natural, despite what they say,
the liberals with their gay
agenda.
Apples, bobbing
in an ocean of pain. Twice the harrier
sorrow swooped in on my sobbing
heart. Why don’t you love me, asks the meadow of the sky (it’s dark
and the sun has set on Sodom,
now heaven’s fire will make it warm),
the sky is silent, it knows G_d’s plan.
When I saw you with a man,
I knew it was time for brimstone
to fall
on a burning hacienda.
It’s not natural, despite what they say,
the liberals with their gay
agenda.