faith in nothing: a reason

 early afternoon in
the land of murdered cheerleaders
and the hills without pity

the streets like rivers of dust and
filled with the shadows of whatever i hold
between myself and the sun

and i am not trying to define
a moment in time here
i am waging some misguided war of one
against impermanence

i'm giving the finger to anyone
who expected
even the smallest of revelations

listen

the man wore yellow gloves
while he butchered the bodies and
no one was sorry when he hung himself
and five years later i am still caught
between the ideas of growing up
and growing old

i am still receiving letters from
people offended by the use of the
lower case i
but at least the planes
have begun flying again

at least the children have turned
away from their own petty hatreds for
a minute to see how bleak the
future can really be

five thousand dead in the name of
someone's fucked-up god and then
nowhere to go but down