a majority

a night, a nod, a breeze, an idea culled from an ancient greek inscription, gnothi seuton. The masses multitude vulgar hoi polloi commoners bourgeios debtor class posers for magazines pumped on testosterone and running for governor and how many millions of votes for the loser of last year’s sorry spectacle of what resembled a race dissembled from fraud and faith, the bread denied to mouths in Puerto Rico, the dignity denied to those versed in the courage of truth, and the nectar to the literati overfloweth upon a plain clear clean surface and the carnage resembles a nightmare. The wind whispered, حب


And in this word, by a logic as ancient as any history, one may make out the swooping strands of colored hairs hovering his eye, and pluck from mnemosyne the dryness and thinness of an old man’s hair, almost by magic, and this word, by omitting ears admits almost nothing, but its omission of nose and mouth belie the stench it might disguise and words it would silence.

via Daily Prompt: Silent


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