Wednesday, June 8, 2016


          each line drawn across the globe
many steps to bring down buildings
     boots for
          the milling crowds
smile on the faces of decadent flowers
     crumpled to bits
           by plague
there's this refrigerator door
     left open uninstalled
          in the basement cold
through prison bars
     what it bakes
          it makes up for in flesh
cooking their essence ankle deep

     wailing against the white brick

          bent to cylinder shape
stabbed into the heart of the welted world.

No comments:

Post a Comment