Saturday, March 12, 2011

heretic, wall of silence

dirty laundry

girls lining the trees

soaked cotton

wet hanging necks


the horse falling under

this lone world

pools the moonlit ocean and salts my lens

arc lit nights

reveal our fossils mortality

a moment’s echoed canyon

sounds remember when

la luna’s rings reverberates

a new way burns through the old

till smoke clouds the sun

we cannot harness

the mother of life

or return her to the cold


this gift

my red insides

full of

rare dog fed on


lost in the propellers wake

drunken yelling, pushes come to thrusts

through busted windows, shadowy dreams and iron oxide lusting

I am

losing more from you

then my

trust in feeling


these senses erode

the sand flows over low lands

tall boulders and eyes rolling when

water falls down

her face

rivers become valleys

streams and small creeks

now a mix, flow

soapy trickle

your sick tricks and

fucking cement


lies never cover

can never compare to

the dirty nature of these

naked truths

what I see with open eyes

and arms extended

you’ll never know

these deep

blue mountain rivers

and the still

tree shaded shores


by my closed mouth

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