The Punk Duality


alone, is a cause
for celebration—
postpone the applause

as unknown outlaws
raid my plantation—
some brutality
at home is a cost

gentlemen pay ’cause
they’ve each a billion
(homegrown-wicked thoughts).

In reality,

one thrown on a cross
scores veneration
w/the right hooks & southpaws

bright looks behind gauze;
you know wounds hasten
the true “Hollow Cause”—

claw beneath the gloss;
your mutilation
will never exhaust