March 2017 Collage Poem - Internationalism
Blue enchantment, starlight pallette
Nazi visions of underworld clowns
An evening of art, newborns, and profanity
The clown is still king.
The bubbling, squeaking sound rising
Shaking in a frantic situation
Blood swept under a script
I saw the fox and he saw me
Creatives of the underworld
Bleed out onto the page, voice rage
We sit in a kaleidoscopic womb of words
Tesco laden-down forgotten lady
Symbolic of a world close to war
Birds flying north seeing the early morning sun
Children digging parent's graves.