(S. Hish)


I had this idea for
anarchist journalism,
a documentary confronting
pimps guarding Motel 6 balconies,
homeless addicts,
who, even from a distance,
see God
in their hardened veins
like stars reflecting the piss-soaked
rat infested alleys of
this supposedly
chosen suicide.

In the hope of arriving
long before
the merchants
and vermin,
I follow my dying
refusal to be silent
down the shores
of escapist waters
where the dead
dredge and release
broken, stolen humanity
into the frigid winged universe
of all who suffer.


3 thoughts on “Witness

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