born man in the plumes,
Quiff now circumcised, parades
the circus of Rome –
missed by decadence’s abyss,
pitiless, negates heav’n’s light.
Narcissus laments
the touch of the cloth hood stale
death’s ail forms its breath,
miasma coils the stricken
soul – devoured proud plumes of pride
©mullen 2017
Comments