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Third Place Bust-a-Rhyme Poetry Contest Winner, 2011

 

Prosperity in Prohibition

by Zachary Alexander Jackson

I am scarred from head to toe
Eyes; black, blue, and purple--
the red slushy I enjoyed, is in vertigo
My blurry vision stifled as my voice, and a shame a sharper stab to the ego

Which is why, I sent Beowulf to return my empty hands,
Hands holding weights of that virulent inception
stark contrast to the contrary I am at peace and without just anything to utter
I clench my fists and feel the rinds of oranges

I don't know where I could be, yet shorter still I stab in the dark
The dark, stabs back,
at me...though,
my anguish is distilled and my love an alcoholism

I don't choose to list the atrocities of the fruitless world I live in
I am questioning, and asking for love--
I want to spit on these arts;
Infectious as my interventions are,

Wanting to digest the stupor of this antithesis
I am void incarnate, and ever'thing is a squabblin' foolishness
Loving in a dream, your empty passion--
a misfit now whole.

You are no longer despairing, yet ever ending
A prosperity in my prohibition of fear
and thine art not with me
But the tears and jeers of thy consternation

 

 
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