Joseph Narusiewicz

(9/29/50 / So St Paul, Minnesota)

Cursed


Lay your wreaths on the tombs of Arica
Shed foreign tears on the mints of gold
These forests weep with savoy plagues
Surrounded by tails of dark creatures
Organized into legions of iron bacteria
Job scrapes his ghastly sores
Mansions of wistful manners in the fog
Tongues of Chaldean chalices
Make love like Judas counting his silver
Drink the blood of Nero a hero of the profane
Heaven gathers swords doomed like Caesar
Milton sleeps in a dragon’s eye
Their lungs dying with slow apathy
Their children cry worse then refugees
Plagues patiently wait outside the fire
Pestilence gathers listening for trumpets
Hear the portent voice whisper in the night
The cursed cradle their sodden souls

Submitted: Tuesday, April 01, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, April 01, 2014

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