Of blind cocks that crow at dawn

by JEHIEL EUGEAN TAYLOR
(NEW YORK)

Of blind cocks that crow at dawn
Dyeing, drying on the thorns of humanity
The Blood of non-creation and criterion of a nation insane
Inhumane and decimates to the red strains of Children’s games
Glory and praise the ascensions of one
The sum of masculinities abortion
The burnt image of the aftermath.
Go and see the walls of None
The tribunal of dung
Crown the one-eye worms
Anointed in rotted empires
Furies, scurries, and buries the thoughts
Of lace and grace the masses of fame and shame
The brutal pyre of human’s creed, the immune one
The dyeing, drying of the horns of cruel black sons
The burn of dark hands
The blood of divinity
The nation
Is at war with profanity.
Sanity
What is humanity?