Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Two Poems by Christopher Kenneth Hanson

Drank Of Stark Sap

Drink wisp in, gentle ear
And now, drink this 'gain.
Because for your worth, I would struggle
Or for your youth-
In so much as whichever: least valued by thee-
Currently, presumed-
took: a sip, lapping all-
{as cool disfunction}
ergo defeatist mentality-
willow train of time,
And now, you- dear one
Shall bow,
And bow through thy limb of concrete farce
thereof, we shall, only in times of slumber-
fall to whims of stark folly.

In Stuttered Line

Or in belief
as empty a shadow:
through thought-
Liquid livid as cleared
the dead panning laughter in
heaves mentality, of course
what which
buried of course-
that which may have kept Madam
cawing mellifluous tones;
She, whom now claims poetic justice
Above all other sociologists whom fawn over
pre-social network theory,
I left out here,
Such that, there was nothing left sacred to blame.

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