In-Sense

 In-Sense 

I list, hammer in hand pummeled

by the winds blown on the shores 

of convergence, the stench of rancid 

wretched refuse rotting burns my eyes - 

gusts gale across rivers, hatred unburied 

sends swollen bodies gangrened and 

grinning tumbling from this desperate 

dump of demonism - and I hesitate for

but a nanosecond - until I stand -straight

and swing - hard - the crack of my own

forehead satisfying as optical nerve 

hemorrhages and finally, finally -    

once more all turns rosy again - 

as I stand on the sun fingered 

shore and protect in the only 

way I see possible - my vision 

as into the epic frame of future 

I  bloodied hammer in hand fall -

before it is too late to 

choose