The Hunter

Cloaked in a faded huntin’ coat,
fire blazes
from the tips of his fingers,
flames shoot out of his asshole.

Pure evil.

His stench wakes the wet dogs sleeping in the alley,
makes the flies dance and the
maggots go crazy.

But he flys on golden wings,
right up to the Sun and back.
Angels sigh, 
trumpets sound,
the blind see,
the crippled kids run in the street.

Love flows down
his chin,
down his greasy chest,
onto the earth,
creating a shimmering river
where all the sinners swim.



Filed under poems

4 responses to “The Hunter

  1. Richard Carnal

    Alles klar omego? I bet you were excited about the Pirates, and then they lost their magic.


    Sent from my iPod

  2. yourejivingme

    Spectacular!! !!

  3. Thanks all, including you RC

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