Only the deepest friends leave impressions
on this rather prudent heart – Interpret
that as you will; I make no concessions
to the surface, and I don't mean a threat:
This is ideal talk, mouthed from Planet Mars,
that part of us all that gets sanded down
by the world's bar soap, despite its wars, scars,
perfuming the seen with our favorite sound:
As backs are patted, and egos stroked down,
domesticating the primal furies
of the human spirit, the seeds are sown
of a backwards soul – strange fruit hangs from trees:
Domestication implies a husband:
control, abuse are his only customs.
urbansonnets 