Thursday, 16 December 2010

Christmas tree.

Torn from the womb
of the pine stacks
that grow in poisonous rows,
you're enmeshed in
tortuous gauze.
Your stump is clamped
in the vice
of the stand
and you are spangled
with glittery shit
like a bedraggled whore.

If not for the children's eyes,
it would be almost
human rights abuse.

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