Bullets bitten so hard

all you taste is metal and blood 

still the pain lingers 

The crystal-blue sky 

belies the coming storm that

carries mayhem with it 

The crane flies from the 

island, spooked by a gang of

rowdy, rough seagulls 

Sickness slips into

the body politic and

slowly eats away 

 Blank canvases can

offer a new world or a 

ceaseless fearful void 

They gnash their awful

teeth and wail their awful wails

but nothing changes 

Dopamine drained from 

developing brains serves the 

unquenchable Dow

Strangers passing by,

their faces blank masks, reveal 

nothing as they go

Reaped from our ripe fields,

but not for you and me, who

stand on fallow land

The approaching dawn

can't get the baked on grease off 

of my crusty soul 

The world, a broken

wheel, still turns but with every

revolution slows 

With salutations 

and huzzahs welcome the truth

so warty and wild 

Trouble's brewing on

the edge of town where sidewalks

end amid darkness  

The dusty ceiling 

fan spins lazily, reflects

my noonday torpor  

Sympathize with a 

daydream drawn from a burning

need for profound hope 

Stones like jewels in

the shallow water lose their 

shine when plucked and dried  

Splintered thoughts welded 

by eternal breath converge 

into written word  

Vultures a circling, 

eyeing these old bones, but they'll

have to wait their turn 

Benighted and blind, 

hearing only echoes, you're 

bewildered by woe

Silk whispers slipping

across the leg like a snake 

with its red apple 

Once spontaneous 

now we dislike unforeseen 

phone calls or visits 

Bone-yard children gnaw

on meatless scraps and sharpen 

knives impatiently 

The sun deceives on

days like this when wind rattles 

the windows and doors

You hold the smoking 

gun in hand wondering why

your feet are bleeding 

A plaintive voice calls

from just out of site, but yet

a vast gulf away 

Subtlety is a 

lost art in a world so brash

and boisterously bland 

Language's double 

edge lets us illuminate 

or lead them astray 

No burnt offerings 

can mend the body's broken 

temple nor torn veil

Broken smiles from lost

souls seep into consciousness 

only in hindsight 

The birds have become 

raucous like drunken British 

football fans this morn