Excommunicado
by Bill Yarrow
1.
they tied him to a louver
and piled up hickory sticks
the flames gushed through the slats
and then burned down the house
not every punishment proceeds
without a hitch
2.
in walks the ghost with wireless hands
the hacksaw complexion
the jackoff heart
Gabriel in a zebra suit
3.
like a dog's first whiff of cinnamon
integrity is confident
it can annihilate perfidy
4.
here's what can be glimpsed:
a rose degraded to a thorn
a man etherized on a couch
all the hymns of Hymen sung to the music of crucifixes
5.
the moon is our conscience
we shall not wane
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Author's Note
This poem appeared in MadHat #15
Thanks, Susan Lewis and Clare Martin.
This poem appears in Blasphemer (Lit Fest Press 2015).
Other stories by Bill Yarrow
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Holy shit. I'm not enough of a poet to comment on the technical aspects of this but, Bill, the imagery, line after line, kicked my ass.*
*!!!
OMG!
"in walks the ghost with wireless hands
the hacksaw complexion
the jackoff heart"
Are you kidding me!
Imagery and sound. Imagery and sound. Absolute. *
What Gary said. My ass is sore now, too. *
"the moon is our conscience
we shall not wane" Sigh! I wish i could write like that. *****...
I like everything here but the word "conscience." What's that?
You da best, Bill. *
The moon is a harsh mistress.
Just.Wow. ***
Thanks, Gary, Jerry, Sam, Matthew, Rachna, Jake, Gary and Charlotte, for your liking and commenting. Much appreciated!