The literati mafia

Take me to the river, where the water glistens
a bluish-green, help me find redemption
in those colors of uncertainty, unpredictability,
unreliability, the tranquil murk,
where the swallows lurk, gliding, glistening
with dark brown Chinese fan wings and
a breast the hue of gravel, a raw delight,
splitting air and causing ripples.

Take me to the river, help me shed this
old skin like a snake during ecdysis, leaving
behind the past in the withered, haunted woods
and bathing in a darkened
rebirth, never knowing, never seeing beyond
what I must.

I want to love you so much more.
I don’t want to hate you anymore.
But I’m no Keatsian romantic.
And I’m no Drop D Shakespeare.

I’m just an ordinary man,
chock-full of fucking flaws,
as judgemental as Jehovah,
as conflicted as Corey Taylor,
as scarred as a guttural shriek,
as jettisoned as Judas.

So, take me to the…

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