From Both Ends

115e789424f6ee5c82d7c98ff4cde941

(Robert Rauschenberg, Untitled)

 

A mercenary

tracks her murder

to a controlled burn

tourniquet

strangling

men with AR’s

guarding

a pathological sense

of entitlement.

 

She has taken on the characteristics

of the war.

 

She hunts a corrupt, criminal

underground,

an invisible

crime scene.

 

She wears the

collateral black

violence

too few have endured.

 

She ranges a more

encrypted description

of the suspects.

 

A dying man

drones psalms

from the old country.

 

Another is waiting.

Advertisements

Wings

29198868a43123a733bd3ee350b7ad16

(Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee a Second Before Awakening, by Salvador Dali)

 

Sometimes there is a place,

an opening in the clouds

we shoot up into,

demanding God’s presence.

 

Within every cloud

you search the sky,

rip the sun apart,

tear through supposed

storms meant to kill,

but for your angels.

 

We revert to our innocence

while searching for

what is left of our

intact souls.

 

Take me to that path,

if not to God,

then to the perfect silence

of the Elysian Fields

where those without sin

walk a profound nothing

to drown

like a dying religion.

To Live

55fde31d07a9f251339ee6d08333fbfc

Hieronymus Bosch

I will meet you

somewhere between the

theta waves

and this wounded refusal

to die.

 

But you have to be there,

truly be there

amidst the graves

and the killing laughter which

revels in your

every death.

 

The thefts,

and the burns

broadcast

a sudden madness,

your premeditated

deterioration.

 

Only when I washed up

on these brinks,

did I choke

on the tombs

of those killers.

 

The next storm

has already been planned.

 

I will be here

if you need me

with nothing left

to be taken.

 

OCD

 

img_20161015_110038

 

Be warned,

there is something

in the woods

unheard of,

guns loaded,

unborn.

 

Ritualistic death

among the

Ayahuasca.

 

I went there

to save you

from burning

and was

buried alive.