Monday, June 7, 2010

Within Sight of the Rocks

Does it take a lot to kill a man? 
or just a well-placed scratch?
I wonder about the blood; Fascinated
by its air-soaked color, by its loss and rebirth-
gone/replaced/gone 
toilet bowl red
Filled with clean water from the tank
all is better again
Fissures break worlds, cleave them in two
I am over here, my dead future there with you
Will you walk up my street, firm and resolute yet pass me by?
Are you the warning flare in my empty, aging sky?
Remove my dirty water from your tank
should all be refreshed again
On a rocky ridge bullets spray lines across the dirt
searching for soft tissue to subvert.
who will die, who will hurt
who will you take to your church
toilet bowl red and
reborn again

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