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Strange Currency

Fool's Gold

By Maribelle MartinezPublished 3 years ago 1 min read

Cowered, not Coward

I dodged Pop’s midget, ashy fist

Fear was the currency

I would not make him rich.

When Jesus therefore received the vinegar, he said:

It is finished.

He bowed his head and

Gave up the ghost.

But I am no quitter

Welcome Back, Parasite!

Says the host to the ghost, long after

Pop’s last gasp and he died

He is Arisen

Made flesh in lovers and passersby

Who animate the barbs.

The pain is strangely comfortable

A lazy boy recliner bedazzled in splinters

It is all I’ve ever known

Ouch

Was he right to make hate

His daily bread

And me, the Whine?

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Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

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