We are in the days of solemn humidity and proof, Of transgressive light and loneliness, Of panting altars and dismissive behaviors, not unlike us We are expansive in our scope And diminutive in descriptions Just plain confused Our hands are up in surrender Whether or not theres a gun pointed at us. Or the guns take many forms. The after math seems too complex and abstract And nobody really bothers with the calculations of sorrow and loss. It turns to smoke and the choke of grasping Necks, ground, cars, scars, Lie down, with your hands behind you Lie down, and submit to it Lay down your composite history Your distensions, your guts, your hernias, and your bowels Then find your nearest pharmacy prison State block cornfield county unimaginary fence gate sign boundary Line authority fault And falter and be judged Conveniently
Posted on: Sat, 23 Aug 2014 03:46:37 +0000