My Mind Is A Bull
My mind is a bucking bull
ready to be free of these origins of canto, coax and control.
I seek a land that doesn't bait the poor, the tired, the hungry,
so I can rise up like that phoenix on the backside of our currency.
The whore on the island riding her seven headed beast doesn't hypnotise
me she only makes me want to set fire to the bible.
The occupancies, the secret meetings, the phony nationalism, the sabotage, subterfuge, the soul and the salad beacons to me and watches me in my fiery dissertation.
My wife removes her ring and beds a fire
My best friend and brother curls up on the prairie doubting the moon the stars and the sun,
My sister in law wants fire in her guts so she can rise up and take control,
and the philosophers just talk, and the poets jus dream,
and I want an ice cream sunday with all the makings of a devine boat.
Comments about this poem (My Mind Is A Bull by jerome moore )
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