curiosities

i was not raised
to be vegan
or poet
blood runs through my youth
torn and cut wide
with a fountain of memory
stood strong on
the pounding of flesh to flesh
pressed raw by environments cold
and serene

but, again it is
we all
come rooted, (you and i)
from a same earthly womb unkempt to violent
to be swaddled
in blood, and christened
by a consequence without godly reason
to be set aimless by nature
among both the weary
and those downing
a fragrance
of titles
and curiosities of talent

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2013