King Harmony

Drag down the road signs into illegible mud.
Sow the road with nails no tire can swallow.
File my teeth to a point where there’s no disarming me:

(And still)

Wallow in the blood of brothers, fathers and mothers.
If he bristles at the fetid show
Bring out the blades of peonies:

Before the ascensions of the pensioners
Assemble the hour of sour quitters
Draft a flagon of their fearsome minutes
Their flappy paperwork alarming me:

(and still he rides on the shoulders of robust augurs)

Cull the little huddle of the normal blues
And take them some place he cannot follow.
Grow the oath with ails no faith can hollow

(Breaking chains of freedom where you are most free)

And still he comes:
Unmoved and applauding the day-end glow
Replacing the things that were harming me

The filth flattens into flowers before him.
Though I cannot speak his name he means
The same as what you are to me:

Make it not mean what I know it means
As how in spring love fiercely wallows
(While he plucks me from ignominy)

In the darkest hour flowers King Harmony