Three Times Fallen
Three Times Fallen
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mrggeraci
mrggeraci Minor, obscure, American Catholic poet
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago
Sonnet

Three Times Fallen

Splintered, dead weight of the wood on my shoulder, Cutting. The flesh and the muscles and bones of my Body are beaten and bruised; prodded, pulled, rodded. Each breath comes wheezing; now squeezing up, lifting and

Breathing against the shards, pierced; press the flesh of my Face, wrapped and round my skull, contacted, contracted, Tightened and clamped; the hard ground comes up fast to my Eyes and I’ve cracked my lips open and bashed my cheek Broken; the sweat, drool, and blood drip from my chin, my nose running.

Spectral chimeras, utopian daydreamers - Spare his Mother the sight of this spectacle. Specter accepted, his scepter, his sacrifice. Man of derision, despised, and mocked: Humankind’s savior, redeemer, our steadfast rock. -Gary Edward Geraci

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