Joshua Roberts

cultivation of mythology – its just sampling man, stealing thunder and squandering it – meanwhile the human species is wasted for want of a pittance

spinning the whirlwind
you reap what you sow
to squander such mind
ill force you to know
the plight of the last man
failed tigers leap the span
there is no “better than”
the pillars will grow

the vine will envelope
all stolen magick
antigens develop
no longer be sick
the rod and caduceus
recovered in form
now no one disputes us
we are quite reborn

so robbed, we have stolen
the cup from the hand
so wasted – emboldened
by fate so we stand
in the cold of the winter
in the falling snow
stands naked the vintner
his hands all bordeaux
immovable giant
the pleb uncompliant
infinite, defiant
waves break on our bow

(“all i can give you now are broken-faced gargoyles” -carl sandburg, to
whom the preceding work is inscribed, jvr.060111 – thank you sir, you
changed my way of looking at the world, in some way every line i have
ever written belongs also to you)