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Click hereHalleluiah!
Bo Deacon, he is the one.
Church came down in roar of praise.
Prophet called prophet, visions passed
between wires, through pin holes,
like breath.
They told of angelic mission.
Tested like Job on the job,
failing fork and spoon trials,
thrown out of the kitchen —
no more washing those dirty plates.
He claims his prophecy,
no longer an ordinary man.
Bo Deacon's on an angelic mission!
I see you, Bo Deacon,
and my gaze molts your false glory.
Those wings won't fly you anywhere.
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copyright d. dixon
6.18.2004
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leaving those who believe in something, TK U MLJ LV NV
What a better time to experience smooth landing in the poetry section than right at one of Eve's poems!
A great day. I get to say to Eve, "this poem was recommended in the New Poems Review" BUT! I was just checking to make sure I got the links right, but saw I forgot to link this poem. Sorry! I'll go fix that right away.