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A bizarre poem about a squirrel with rainbows, and slaughterhouses. |
Squirrel Rainbow Tied down to a tree, a squirrel enhances its beauty gradually. I stare at it infinitely, and it looks at me with questioning eyes. The jewel in its stare, glares at me with walnuts and pointing upwards. I know there is a stairway building up somewhere, but I don't know how to access it, it's like a silver ghetto, gleaming along the railway, coins trailing along the squirrel's rotten teeth, but nothing stops it from munching on its chains. I long to see the sun, behind the clouds, turn up no rain, no rain, because oppression is what keeps this poor creature from seeing all the walnuts it wants. The rainbow drips down, and I wonder, why can't the squirrel hide, hide away, just for a day? But I am done, with this dust pan, and I dribble sorcerers, into the clay, that I am molding, for a pixie- that will help everyone feed the animals that are being slaughtered, walnuts- so they will no longer be punctured between their eyes, for our teeth to puncture between their membranes, just for our stomach juices to penetrate green acid between their eyes, that once were eyes, tied to a tree, why do we do this? Why do we let the rainbow drip? How can we take away so many walnuts? Because we need to skip, without the chains becoming heavy, where do the chains come from? Too many dripping rainbows, I say. Yes, that's what I say. |