No part of this poetry should be reproduced in any form without written consent from the author, Joe DiMino, who retains all rights: contact poet@light-cards.com

"Human Mashes" (by Joe DiMino)

See the pyramids
Like all monumental
Arch: very tall
And pointed;
Just one
The room for
At each top—

Loftier up
More wind
And cold slop;

When in clouds
A monarch first
Loses his head—
Before the guillotine
Spiritually dead—

Inflated body
Then soul;
Why speculate
On cumulus shapes?
All lies! All lies!
Meant for
Naive eyes—
For the head, alone
Manically knows,
Not the neck
To the toes,
Beneath the nails
Where fungus
Grows—remains
Sour grapes
The masses
The lowly
Mashes

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