Friday, May 30, 2014

the kingdom, denied

in these sepia-toned rooms of
memory i relive
25 years of drowning

in the season of ascension
we eat only fear

and i have these pictures and i
have these poems and i am
not sorry for being thin
enough to fade from view

i have no use for your
anger and none for your pain

we were there at the table
when the bullet
caught christ in the throat
i was fucking your
sister on the afternoon my
grandfather took his
own life and
listen -
confession isn’t art
the starving know enough
to view your god as nothing
more than so much meat
all magic is contained w/in
the moment of revelation
and then all that’s
left is dust

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