life’s face phosphorizes ugly
squinched, unhinged & torn
parts of my body
rotting meters deep &
carry grief
in heavy vessels, wounds
fresh & raw with pain, weigh me
shoulders stooped, i
fled here from the city,
drowning in futility & raid, rage
between the dead,
knocking on doors we fight,
tightly locked with steel bolts
hold us until
someone steps
too close and dams burst with
a thunderous crack
face in the mud &
touching floodland,
ripped & split, i’m digging graves
for the pain – less, go, let me -
Go,
I know you can’t see – lies
bouncing back like
moon-pale, off-scale skeletons,
a ghastly army, envision decay,
mission-making-us-think
we already stopped
breathing but we still gasp, lying
on our back
with open mouths, body crinched,
fight until someone
throws us back & hoarse-tongued
clumps glued to my neck,
riding back the roots we came
from
.
my one shot wednesday poem comes straight from the cemetery where i fled to last week…and yes…after all it was a good time..
due to a business trip my commenting will be a bit delayed…
..grab your pen and join the party over at One Stop Poetry…sign up opens 5pm EST
