One Sentence Poem
This poem addresses the way an epic hero acts as a singular figurehead for a nation or society–traveling to hell and back on their behalf.
I am not the opiate of the people
but the scream incarnate
of two million mouths
with too many legs to do the
walking
and my soles press down
so lightly entwined
by the violin vines
of the symphony
strings and pitches
(high and low)
me several hundred miles closer to hell
for the man at the end of the street
who rolls two pennies
between his
dirty
knuckles.