sell the holes in your socks

ran hard
held the flame to the shadow
crawled when wire came down around the neck
turned around
blood dripping cold

nailed the crucifix
heavy like brick trouble
she only stands the reflection
flaming hair
rust in a war for more

goodnight you bastards

for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."

Chief Joseph - Nez Perce

Comments

  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    crowded feels like me
    my elbow, a wood surface
    i easily feel discomfort
    ?what is this

    intensity owns

    why not? wire walls
    this here
    floors are dirt all the time
    always flesh pains

    thinking isn't freedom
    chained/caged
    the beast within blasts
    a small child cries out
    the comedy show closes
    another hospital rings hello
    streetlights flicker

    no one is home
    maybe later
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."

    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    kinda like a busy piano
    keys far away
    still sound alive maybe
    no ending but the curtain did fall
    feel this
    heard or deaf
    the understanding is small
    complex like marble's ages
    luster has faded as a rotten bog

    the fingertips do not want touch
    a believable piece of sheet music may perish awhile
    real quick
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."

    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • rollingsrollings Posts: 7,124
    Jesus
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