Icarus Plastique

As humble as egos,
...That rise like empires,
and muscle through the subway crowds.
These nylon icons!, our rehashed heroes,
who proclaim their noble truths aloud.
...that rattle chains from knoll and window,
as they bare their bloodied souls to 'yan',
who scratch at floorboards,
and gnaw at ankles,
and scorch their wings upon the sun

 

you already posted this, i'm sure....fairly certain a few people commented too....

 

While I didn't care for the way the poem
made me feel, I did think it was very good.

Thanks for reposting.

 

maybee you read it somewhere else, that one has appeared in a few antholgies and my first short collection 'Miasma', i also post on yahooka, so that may be it

 

Nope you definitely posted it here twice - I looked up all your posts and it's there x2