Wednesday, November 29, 2017

After-Worlds, Agent Orange


She wrote verses of tomorrow it will rain
winter is a fever that bursts 
and it'll all be OK, as the drowning began
again and again she screamed from the bottom
of an alcohol autumn backwards backwoods
river, and nobody could hear her scream
the screen was static, as I made love
to the boy with brown eyes singing
lullabies between drums between pastel kingdoms
as the lullabies turned to mantras
against a black cold CIA night like a knife
in the back of America, the revolution
drugged up on pills in America's institutions.

Agent Orange

My mind is heavy weighted, slight eyes
poorly sedated, my heart is rotten
forgotten, predated 
My soul is a black canvas
and unrelated.

Your eyes are sores
your hearts a dagger
your brains an encyclopedia 
forget about that part
as aimless as these words are
another leafless path
another windswept lie

Another broken violin
another reason to cry.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Morning Glories

Morning Glories she had giggled and dreamed of an obscure melody as she slowly tumbled into the mirror of melancholy when the morning be...