“Makeshift Carl” by Christopher Cannon
“Oh Chatterton! How very sad thy fate!”
By John Keats
How very sad thy Fate.
Not so golden Arches flash behind us!
Dear child of Mars; a son of Memory.
Wishfully I could still consider you as having been friendly..
You got out of trouble often this way.
Islamic green ponds
A castle of wake!
Built to brake these kids conceptually;
We were so small..
Long long hall..
Now flash again at us;
with concerns of this high debate,
How soon that voice, Majestic and elate,
Melted in dying numbers,
Oh how rotten that fanatic smell!
Our throats of hell.
Now might curse the night,
That you did die
Your precious lie,
Your prideful delight
But now your a half blown flower
A form or flash for cold beast to animate.
A part of the past,
Apart from the past?
Your among the stars,
Electric like streaks shine back at us,
bouncing off of fast cars.
Of these highest heavens!
To the rolling spheres!
Till this bullshit we learned wrong clears.
Above this ingrate world of human like fears.
On earth; a good man based distraction of bars!
A distraction from mind
Angelic like, could sweetly sing
Comes from thy fair name;
with love and confusion, Chris.