the poor are still poor
the dying still die
those obsessed with power
wrap themselves in disaster
like moths in cocoons
only to emerge stinking of
blood
self-righteousness
their own vile shit
weaponize everything
the weapons
the disease
the cure
cockroaches
are time travelers
come back to honor
their ancestors
Tag: truth
NaPoWriMo Day 16
mockingbird you
put your
whole self in
smart ass
smart as
take your pick
repeat everything i say
adds a few phrases in my voice
–stop hitting yourself
it offers and
–i know you (are) but what am i
oil slick wings
a song of sanded butter
you grate on my nerves, blackbird
you vex me, jackson–you vex me
i will feed you bits of me
wrapped in freshly baked bread
still steaming from the oven
from my furnace-hot heart
you will shut that beak for good
when you have–
take, eat; this is my body
–been poisoned
that’s
what it’s
all about
Poem 20150603
let the hands move
they move
they move on
they move of their own accord
a truth in their movement
a truth in how
they slide
the hands slide
the hands pause
and trace shapes
and trace curves
let them trace
let them draw
let them follow
and grasp
and hold
each hand
five fingers true
and a truth in the muscles
and in the tendons
and in the bones
and in the marrow of the bones
and in the anima that moves them
Words and Feathers 