The day begins to speak
at the cusp of the breaking glow
I cannot embody myself
There’s nothing left to rival,
no qualm bespoken or shelved.
When there’s nothing but fractured hope —
just dregs of some poor bastard’s dreams;
The tired ones, where his legs are stone
and his poor children…
Rolling into the jagged horizon
ground shrinks into a pointed trance
and those mountains persist in all their grandeur
life has given back what was in rest
the sky seems giddy in deeper hues
and yet the crux of my soul drowns in blues
like varicose, opal, suffocation
that so erupts in dehiscent…
here i sway
at the limb of a faltering oak
the freedom of a groundless sky
& a tightening of the rope
it got brighter
before the dark
the breath reversed at the brink
inhales became the out
my feet wore invisible stilettos
as they swung — a pendulum
painting the near…
What better place
to live but in hell
where there is sense in senselessness
and pleasure embalms pain
in an incandescent reverie
where you could kiss your son goodnight
and be crushed by a falling stone
on the way to craft him shoes
for the coming seasons
where you may…
Did you hear about our overlords?
Can you believe their overreaching claws?
Did you listen to the government
my pastor took up arms!
Did you
hear about the dying children, not the ones
who took breaths
but the ones who took poison?
Did you march upon their palisades?
Can you…
