Effigy

Hang this man; burn this man Put to death, my imperfection, Built me now, a recreation Pore, scar, wart, mole, roll, stye – A straying eye God is in the details And don't forget the darkened husks of azure eyes Somewhere my scarecrow Is watching and waiting Crash through the tree line And hoist him up shaking Effigy – I burn the waste of me, I douse in kerosene These eyes of birthstone December cauterize Blight the sky And send my sins on high, In plumes the man I knew Takes flight in flickered release Of beautiful butane blue Unwashed mass of follicles and folly Scar, pores and poor decisions Raise me up; twist the noise; my abuses Are never more to stain another life – My war crimes excreted Somewhere my scarecrow Is writhing and wailing Below the furnace And smell my sins melting Effigy... Skull, heal, Skin, peal, Bones, wood, Be, good Ember to mannequin of dry timber, Tin hips and leather lips smooth from my life My former self painstakingly rendered Crab-louse coat shorn from wriggling wasteflesh, Wisp and wither Effigy... Butane blue, butane blue...