Leaving the Coven
A craven of cronies stood
Between us & God
God hated short skirts, God
Demands clones.
A damnation of judges
Stood between us &
Knowledge; truth exists
Only in service to others.
A clowder of cretins
Stood between us &
Art: “Don’t be disturbing”
“Never trust instincts.”
From the depths of
This oubliette
You drank the koolaid
Guaranteeing your survival
Cherishing passion
Rescuing me –
So I could grow up
And write this poem.
Alysse Aallyn 