#maxhartley

My father did it  by the book

and he did it to the letter,

a lot of people say a rockefeller

couldn't have done it better.

with fifteen gallons of bone marrow

that he stored in his trunk

And using alcohol as a gallows

he’d ride to get drunk.

  Your father's will is barren

Pock marked with decay

and the road was built for carrion

I see them every day,

scratching at the tarmack

chipping it, bit by bit, away.

  so pour me a pint of that sweet champagne,

Cos The weather vane don't talk no more.

and get your self one of the same,

my heraldry lines the ocean floor.

  dark fabrics of the universe pinning me down.

the suspended animation of a love for this land.

and we all gasp in suspended belief

as the will of your father is six feet beneath.

the road that was built just to be picked clean,

the weather man don't say what it is that he means.

the snake will eat itself.

the wolf will lead the herd

and we the cannibals will consume this world.

its textures rich, sinews rotten.