Real Country Soap

stealing poets fervor
like rented dreams
fore the clothes
on their backs
were stained
in swine flue
and babies blood
and make merry
like a gul
or a wanton goddess
dare me to stake
the claims made
madness lingers
and I did chat her
up, till dizzy
riddled with self
re-more/use-code
like dented rights
or even dendrites
eating mega bites
with intuitions own mouth
like a bird with the sky
trees and house
make a soap
hose, down the daddy
dearest, father knows
rest in pieces
like a puzzle
that needs to be
put back to- get-
-her, just for an
instant, cram her *flash*
time bomb ticking-
or does it have a fuse

or just a rash
"it is shingles"
Then why did I cure them
with out a trip
on acid paper pen
waiting to dry
the ink, so that
a poem is born!