Not Seen, But Heard

The Devil Is In The Details

Unload, dive in

Social justices asides, or rather, underneath the bed

Attend the fair, paint on the incorrupt appearances, 

across the bridge of my nose

Meet me here, 

inside this,

and under this

Do not consign to oblivion your desire for settling this score, 

once and for all

Do not forget to bring along your utter disgust for this,

for it is the most important piece

One, two, three,

break

Another human’s retribution in the form of 3 pounds of cool metal

Speed not for the finish,

because slow and steady wins the race

Skip, and place one foot in front of the other,

bleeding eyes never rising above or falling below horizontal,

The corners of my mouth tied to strings, like broken puppets

But for the second time,

we meet here,

inside this,

and under this

Spin like revolving doors,

caught in motions,

high on the scent of gore and human taxidermy

I present that lock of hair, scented in innocence,

As you hand me my income, in that thick white envelope

There are no handshakes,

And all i say is, ‘’the devil is in the details’’.