Ho Ho Ho(so sayeth the Santa)
Posted By: SeverianofUrth
Date: 18 August 2005, 6:43 pm
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Go home to where your mother lies
burning and smouldering
Or so he said; mouth bitter and tight.
I wonder about the sunlight
will I see it tomorrow?
Or so does the woman say,
worry in her eyes, fear tightening her gut,
drama in her ever gesture.
What happened to your mother?
Asks the man in the green
a scar bleeding seeping on his cheek
I said go home!
Yells he with his mouth bitter and tight.
What happened to your mother?
Will I see tomorrow? Dawn, sunset?
Go home, you fool! See it with your own eyes!
And the scenery changes; briefly, it is that of
the bunker, then the street, dust swiveling around
the corners, green limelight broken and shattered.
Tread lightly.
Go home! Or so does it whisper.
But the mother is burnt, and she is not my mother.
Just a corpse burnt, not my mother.
My mother had corn-silk hair; she is not my mother.
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