Cuckolded

Antlers                    6/5/2015  

They brought a map

And gave me a notebook

For an imaginary trip

Of suicide and revenge. 

We drank, we laughed

And then she took pictures

Dressing me up, like a cuckold

In everything, but antlers.

Insult to injury

And salt upon the wounds

As the meat is offered up

Knocked senseless and dumb.

We live uneasy lives

And we take the sun for granted

Warming our backs

Without thought or care. 

It is a peculiar feeling

To be in the middle

A roasted sacrifice

Face down and unconscious.

Woe to them

Who lean upon ambition

Counting their wealth

And lying through their teeth. 

Lulling us to sleep

With half closed eyes

Whispering sweet delusions

Hot and humid.

The bird flies up

And we wait

Slack jawed and dumb

Watching the skies

And crying.   

The bird flies free

From nest to nest

Lining her pockets

With gold and jewels.

Watch it fly

Far beyond the flames

As the we howl on agony

Burning with rage.