Evil Has a Childhood

toss anger, he said into the bin of waste waste not mankind’s love with abuse and bite the bullet skies high the eagle flies why not the steeple less with feathers flocked why not the pews on threadbare knees that knock and palms close touch of closed and ethereal eyes, in shock of amazing blue, far above the whizzing bell of shots some fell, some rise both have a knell and sigh anger flung like monkey dung lay upon the sheetrock roof its lies are born and cradled evil has a childhood, is able to wean and crawl, to fall toss anger, he spoke to the deaf and blind they never woke nor wised up. six feet downer done swept into the bin of waste a godforsaken life