Thursday, July 21, 2016

On the First Ballot - poem

Lawrence Hall

On the First Ballot

Whose are these snarling faces, grown ugly in
The primordial aggression of the pack
Made manifest through individual fears
Witch-stirred inside a cauldron adamant

Dark sorceries beneath arena lights
Ferality and fists pumping in hate
Unhappy beings robed in cartoon tees
Cruel-yelping for the blood of innocence

Now to be splashed and burned and hated more:
Whose are these snarling faces – yours? Or mine?

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