Sunday, September 04, 2016

pale horse, blue rider

here we are at
nothing from nothing

here we are at the
last possible moment


all years are
      year one

all failure is inevitable

you grow up in the
dark ages
and then you have children

you go into debt and then
you start to consider
the idea of suicide

all walls collapse       

all roofs fall in

manchester 1973

chicago 1976

the ideas that
hold meaning for you, the
objects that fill your
dreams, your waking hours,
exist without worth

this is a world of
soldiers shoving dull
rusted blades through the
skulls of newborn

this is a nation sick
with wealth spending
itself on re-election and
the idea of power

you want the
starving man’s vote
and nothing more

you want the children
ignorant because
has become the enemy

these are the
cancerous weeds that
grow when you’re
asleep and when
you’re awake

these are the heroes
of my past grown
fat on fame and

i have no better gift
for any of them
than shallow graves
filled with dim and
broken light

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