The Moribund State
By Lynn Ockersz Bone-thin bodies drift ashore, In a solemn funereal tempo…. Bullet holes gape out of foreheads, Gagged mouths and bound limbs, Greet passers-by dashing for queues, Bringing back harrowing memories, Of the Mailed Fist of past years, But what’s plain and beyond doubt, Is that there’s a growing Black Hole, In the minds […]