typed walls
are taped up around
this room with
blood & shit to hold it,
they paint without me
why?
when I leave them, when I ignore
their falling pathetic deaths
each minute drifting out
toward the past a
screen windowsilled memory
descending on abandoned cars
that rumble north
hopeful of crumbling watch word
building promises and facades
these cars with no driver
this blood with no body
typed walls decay about
this room
in the moonlight-sunlight-
incandescent light
of what could be done
what won't ever be done
these typed walls
are invisible
never to be read
just discarded
like all poets should hope to be
withering and dying aimlessly
saying nothing in the end
a life taken to discover death
now accepting silence
one final grasp
at failure--
No one will remember me.
"a
ReplyDeletescreen windowsilled memory
descending on abandoned cars
that rumble north"
This works as both an amazing concept and a literal visual. Screen window sill bordering and filtering a memory...