Fragments (standard:poetry, 334 words)
Author: Anonymous	Added: Dec 26 2012	Views/Reads: 2531/1640	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Drugged Vision of a Segregated Hell.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


And every Now and Then, She Falls. 

Foul Potato-Headed Lepers Drive 

Rust-Eaten Cars 

And Drink big gulps of Bile-Flavored Wine 

From Curious and Vile Misshapen Jars. 

And Lo, on the Hill... 

On Ornate Thrones of Gold, 

The Gentle Collared Clergy Sits, 

Condemned to Always Cramp, 

But never Shit. 

In the Festering Moldy Bog, 

There Squat Strange Creatures... 

Half-Man; Half-Frog 

Spiked through the Scrotum, to Giant Logs 

Punished for eating Ketchup on Hot Dogs 

****** 

Bammit the Bull-Dyke has Ball-Bearings for Eyes 

She Focuses on Me 

And then Starts to Rise 

“It's Plain That You Shouldn't Be Here 

Down Deep you're a Good Man 

And you have no Fear” 

Things Start to Get Blurry 

Right About Here 

Somehow, So Gently 

She Took me By the Hand 

She Led Me From That Cursed Land. 

******* 

Now I Preach The Gospel 

The Genuine Thing 

No wish to sit 

In the Clergyman's Ring 

And I Admonish Men To Pray 

They Never Visit Nigger Hell 

Least Not To Stay. 


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