SupaDudz Memorial Profile Pic Pick o' the Week: Oh.No.No. 28- AUGUSTUSES

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  • oromagi
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    AUGUSTUS

    Jet pears hung squalidly against the drapes
    and his fingertips glistened with frost.
    The orange sun melted his nape.
    In his drafty palace, there lived a statue
    and over the palace Augustus sent his vines,
    cerise cries in the white air.
    Tender little shots rang out.

    Waterfalls swelled and kissed before him,
    knelt and screamed as crowns spun
    through the night, the night of Augustus
    which was like an army of marauders,
    unceasing and full of insight,
    the dashing snow! the fierce! the free!
    and the waterfalls were still as flames.

    The voices began, like so many daggers.
    At first Augustus only felt them
    as doves attempting to hide in his breast,
    but soon they surrounded him completely
    like a crown of screams, as clearly as sand
    pouring through glass in the winter desert.
    He was the metal of his crown at last.

    Frank O' Hara