Babylon short poem

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She wrote a lie about her mother
Just because she found a nub of pencil
Greasy lead
Teethmarks infesting the barrel
It set her fist like a phonograph needle
Remembering the wobble and crack
Of those old spiritual records
Truer than the voices and lyrics
Sounds that made the dark hairs
Around her nipples rise
Wondering if there was a special needle
That could tease the secrets
Out of the top of the record
And not the blasphemy in the groove

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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Exploring another facet of a mother-child relationship….Nice read!



Babylon ode

Between-Euphrates and Tigris, I was located, Ancient gods found home in me, Beliefs I professed were numerous, Yoke-I placed-upon captives, Life buried in religious activities-I encouraged, On top of hanging garden my beauty laid, Nations far and near feared me

Babylon Rott

Babylon Rott short poem

To hear the pattering of tiny feet , then the sound of gunfire in the street, Is a sign that people have lost there way, They cant make head nor tail of the light of day, When will all this