Bricklike phrases of faltering grace
Raced into the space between lips
Wide eyes of oceans distance
Broken records clickety-clicked in the distance
Suggesting
Over and over
A damaged mantra
An old tune
Trapped in low orbit
That we heard
Colliding in small distances
Placed giant hands
Willed into existence
Like yesterdays horoscope
Believed only what we saw
Objects lit by thoughts
Truths covered in darkness
Hidden behind shadows
Of our own demise
Hand tuned radios
Crackled out important names
The fears of nations
Overlaid our own
As lesser monsters
Were thought to a standstill
Beating them with our hands
Till blood dripped
Between our fists
And the pain
Felt like our own
That we swallowed whole
Instantly
The sickness hit
The greasy wave of fear
That pulled back the light
From under our feet
We ran nowhere
As if escaping from
And staring back into the mirror
To a face
That turned the key
In the lock
In the house
Collapsing like sand

No comments:
Post a Comment