The month of evil.

Drains into little pools backwatered
And nourished to grow out thorns
Remembering fondly the most evil of months
An eight-head horsemen given a name

Washing over the apostate strong
In the black and heady tide of time
I claim the evil month as mine

With deep earth roots and tears
Forbidding the undergrowth and canopy
The ivory and oak bomb shelter made for me
To live out the selfsame fears of the opiate-bereft crowds
The maudlin reluctant enemy

A flashing jingle of silver
A crumpled page of a holy book embedded inside my chest
A microscope perspective on the nature of the truth
A word from the management that counts for praise
This and more enriched my days

Perhaps I alone possess the wolf's eyes to
Pierce the month of evil's haze
Yet powerless to halt the tide
The lifeguard pries the floundering seal
Out of the bloodblack tide
To feel it slip back in again and cry for help

I claim the evil month as mine
Perhaps I am immune to time