Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Things Etched in Stone.

Hunger is not my middle name
You are not my face, my brother-
You are etched in my dreams

Eyes are burdened by colors
You tell tales and spin wreckless dreams
I fear not the face of anger
I fear not the face of redemption

Torn apart by weathered hands,
Hands are aching and bleeding,
Red and golden as dreams.

We fear not, the corn,
The hunger is temptation.
The temptation is greed.

Greed is unified.
Unified in our grace.
The stem from the rosebud
Glows downward,
Empties out into the world.

Hunger is not me.
I followed the woman down
The stairs,
She hisses at me like a snake-
Her eyes are bloodred,

Mouth is twisted.
I model myself after JFK,
The man who was destroyed.

He said, Fear not the temptation;
The eating of chicken.
Fear not destruction.

The commerce of it.
The letting down of it.

The letting down is easy.
Everything is destroyed.
We were all in the middle.

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