Democrat, Illinois - The ElectroLounge

34 !
Blood & consequence, the years scar
the night’s every glance, each fine
& careless word, dreams unheeded gruesome
with hard, strange counsel no sage
has spoke. All chips at faith til one day
a mound of ashes in a far gone world
or a work no man denies & nature might allow.
******
liv. Revolution By Night
Nothing goes away, nothing returns.
A smart cheek’s sheen by ruby lamp
& what the wish years ago to admire & know?
How faith lets go, a lash at a time,
replaced by cloakless melodies in the wind,
by questions in the spines of broken books
& answers scrawled above dive toilets.
Want sniffs by, on streets, in cars,
dogs the eyes, the directionless reaching
hands. Nothing gone, nothing returning.
Want roots pink & black deep, rears
high between broken walls & their
lover fists, in dear, fragile gone hours
where blooms scattered poor, pale rooms.
Nothing going, nothing returned,
a beast of empires built in the fetid
nest of that equation. Boys are clad
in steel & pushed off in columns,
girls dress it tight & roseate, smile
shufflingly til a jaw nods, leans with a word
Preacher in his garden, hums with
his god & does least harm, dying king
hugs his mother’s old book of pressed flowers,
nothing returns, nothing goes away.
Some hours form this life’s raggy fringe,
its known paths where woe fought
the day, the many wars within.
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