by Ali Znaidi
Things sprout in the spine: Thorns.
Thorns of rebellion & a thistle.
The silky skin of standardisation is stung.
Your untamed ink steering clear of
that mummified river because
standardisation is your foe. & your
thorns only sprout in a field of mutiny.
A vineyard of anger. Outcries extricated from
the throats: Jubilance of pigeons. A dinner
w/ the Freedom Muse. Sheep expelled.
Two cups of untamed ink,
ecstasy of dissent.
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