Background noise as a lullaby.
I totally get it.

Interesting. I recall growing up out in the country away from the city lights. The pitter patter of rain on a tin roof. The croaking of a bullfrog and symphonic chirping of crickets. The hoot of an owl. Now your poem has got me reminiscing.

Beautifully penned, Fia. Excellent write my friend. Home sweet home.. Appreciate you, Cuz.

Damian

It’s funny how I’m disturbed by silence in my city but calmed by it when camping. I think we become in tune with our environment and are unsettled when it steps out of rhythm.

That’s a lot of noise but then again you are in the city. If you didn’t like all of that, you wouldn’t be living there. Cool write Fia.

First off, that picture is rage bait if ever I seen it. No, he is not Jesus! 253 the poem had me in stitches because to put it in a prayer form and showing us exactly what he is doing is just comical that no one wants to see it.

I agree with Fia. The image is designed to infuriate. But the poem is fire! I read somewhere that it will be standing room only for miles for people waiting to piss on his grave

Your poem certainly is of a creative thought. Critical thinking; there is no way to reconcile the image and his own explanation/interpretation. He certainly doesn’t have a Doctorate degree (I looked it up). However, I can honestly say he does have a BS degree.

“blessed be the flow
oil and blood
run side by side
thick with profit
pulled from the ground
pulled from the body
both claimed
and spent the same”

Powerfully penned, 253. Excellent write with clever wordplay my friend. So many killer lines in this write, but the stanza above was fire brother. He’s way out over his fucking skis. Appreciate you.

Damian