The Wichita Doctors Are Restless
written by: Jeffrey Cyphers Wright
Still waiting to be overturned, we cornered
the market on nervous green energy.
Twister alley, your black robes flare.
Your artificial prayers plague the prairies.
Hold me close, under the hanging tree,
oh, deputy of the pellet court.
Night builds its nest on the window’s brow.
Abraham Lincoln is out trick or treating.
The braindead fall for the gag rule,
like unhinged leaves in a leaf chain store.
Like the fall of the Roman Umpire.
A white pumpkin spoofs my bookshelf.
You’re running late and message me.
Crazy love is simply, the icing on the gravy.
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