Recycling Old Contrite

the goblin of perpetual doom 
weaves times green slimy snot 
in his inverted towers soul room 
into ropes with hangman knots 
to dangle memories from at night
like stars glowing with old contrite

the dust man wakes before the light 
his sleigh is ready to reap the trash 
the wicked one casts out from a great height 
bound in sacks so they don’t make a splash 
designer babies from smugglers cave’s 
these are the gifts the dust man saves

the dust man trades with the goblin of doom 
memory tear sacks full of shattered visions 
for bottles of ego boosting rum perfume
to apply in front of mock televisions
to masks the scent from his cardboard pajamas 
stained with urine smoke from his nightmare dramas

replayed as repeated sitcoms at night 
by stars glowing with old contrite

©bg 2012

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