Tag: write

slaughter complicit (20170504)

crow14 Comments

we rail against the butchers
complain about their blood-soaked
aprons and their knives
designed and dedicated to slicing
muscle from bone

we point our fingers as
they lead the food beasts
lowing and weeping through
dark alleys into the
sulfurous light
of the slaughterhouse

we rail
we point
we sit at our well-appointed tables
and fill our mouths with meat
gravy runs down our chins
gravy is just another word
for blood
we rail
we point
we complain as the butchers
press their thumbs upon the scales
and tip gold in their favor
we rail
we point
we pay extra for the fatty parts
and pray extra that we are not lead
lowing and weeping though
dark alleys into the
sulfurous light
of the slaughterhouse
we rail
we point
we sharpen the knives

in chains (20170503)

crow3 Comments

everything is ashes in my mouth
they taste like graveyard dirt
rife with greasy sins
of the dead
and those waiting to be reborn
eager to work off karmic burdens
the universe will not last
as long as their labors

long ponderous chains
manacle my hands and
hobble my ankles

i smell the smoke of regret
and envy
and it is my own flesh
that burns
filling my nostrils

pieces (20170501)

crow2 Comments

silent tracks this morning

but so much glass
glittering on the ground
were the wind to pick up
the air would cut me
to pieces

i follow the rails in shoes
with soles so thin
i feel every facet of every stone
trying to pierce my feet

though empty, i have seen the trains

not the romantic locomotives
with porters and bewatched conductors
crowded dining cars
mysterious liaisons
but industrial bulk behemoths
the color of rust
the odor of old burned oil
delivering invisibles
in closed cars

i walk the middle of the track
wood
gravel
wood
gravel
iron on either side

a shirtless jogger approaches
loping toward me
glistening in the sun
i imagine myself
in a coat hanging past the knee
a dusty, wide-brimmed hat
arm relaxed but ready
to draw at my side

another poet’s words
write themselves nearby
first in soot
then in blood:
inspired by beauty
betrayed by lust
abandon[ed] by greed
enslaved by guilt

the jogger turns
the wind rises
and i am cut to pieces

tidal pull (20170429)

crow6 Comments

the ocean lives
in an empty
soup can
in the field
behind my house

i once found
a conch shell
bleached white
in that field
the ocean lived
there, too

the ocean lives
in my heart
salty tributaries
find their ways
to fingers, ears
the ducts of my eyes

you are too small
to be a moon
yet your song
pulls on the ocean
shaping it
before it flattens out
once more

——

It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 29

Check out these sites:

an indifferent lifting of the shoulders (20170427)

crow

i shrug out of you like

an ill-fitting suit

an old man’s funeral jacket

a mummy’s dusty wrappings

the cracked, dry skin of a pudding
left too long uncovered in the fridge

a plate of overcooked liver and onions
the liver my own pulled from my guts
and cooked over the fire in my bowels

the bruised peel of a banana
the exact size, shape, and consistency
of a healthy adult shit

i shrug out of you
and you don’t even know it

——

National Poetry Writing Month–almost over!
Day 26

Check out these sites:

peas and gravy (20170426)

crow11 Comments

they tell you
to settle down
when you’re a kid
and you’ve eaten all
the halloween candy
that has been inspected
before bedtime

they tell you
one day you’ll settle down
make yourself a little
place in the world
build a life

they tell you
things will settle down
when chaos has erupted
like a 4th grade science fair
volcano

but what
they’re telling you
is to settle
because we’re all down
here
and why should you
see things
from an elevated height

——

National Poetry Writing Month Winds Down!
Day 26

Check out these sites: