Sunday, January 01, 2017

the uncertain assassin

slow rusted movements of
heart and hand

heavy water of failure,
one grey drop at a time
like music in an empty room

like the museum of
meaningless words

stand there in the
not-quite daylight waiting
for the doors to open, waiting
for christ to appear, but
nothing ever happens

no one ever cares

nine month old girl dropped
from the seventh floor by
her mother, and is this more or
less than the fate of soldiers
in unjust wars?

are we more or
less blind than our parents?

listen! we scream
but there’s no one there

look we beg
but the windows have all
been boarded over

the sun is always
behind the clouds

you cast a shadow and
then you don’t

you walk up and down
filthy and barren streets
in the wake of the flood

you’ve lost nothing
but had nothing worth

you dream of someone you
want to fuck but
not of anyone you love

seems pretty goddamn funny
but only from a  distance

No comments: