Son of Ham

I care now for silly echoes,
I assume the worst of my best shows,
And of eggs that don’t hatch,
And goldfish that move too fast.
What you’d think if I do what I have long promised in hymns and haikus.
If your death will be any better than mine.
Let us settle this now.
Open your bibles to the Book of Ham chapter 11 vs. 11,
For lo, when the devil’s eyes shall upon my breast rest,
Verily, which mouth doth the Son of Ham use to announce the curtain call?
Verily, which smile wouldst make her see my forever con?
Which flavour of death will make you fear for fools?
How good must thine syntax be in a final death note?
Behold, people of God, a quandary,
Do cowards spell in English or Brute?
For verily, I hereby bestow my best riddle,
Nothing but gospel truth:
A razor. A smiling vein. A gas leak. Go!
That I may be left here merely but bird bones and a lose tooth.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s