Shovelful of Earth
liqour condensing in the fluidlike heavy metal sedation
nothing to do but swallow percs
and listen to Vivaldi
the reams of paper pile constantly
blank and rank in file
exist for a moment to corrupt each mile
not that im smiling
not that im discussing
nothing but an elemental sensation
to fuck them in their eyes
and pray for the end of salvation
aggravated assault
bullets ricochet and tear away
the tattered blanket betrayal
of all i hold dear
descend as dragons breathe fire
and enflame the worst of my fears
into bottles of whiskey
drunk, black night
taken lonely
and given right back in the morning
bob dylan whispers
across the slide of a steel guitar
his words coming out
of a man with no scars
all of it written
to bolster the sixty empires
nothing left
but words spoken into dying embers
blackout beneath eyelids
heavy with important messages
drunk on a sofa
and uninhibited
the motherfucker cant shut up about it
best friend sits idle
breathing smoke from God's chosen plant
better watch out or the police might arrest
take the bullets to the chest
as they swallow the evidence
nothing but cocaine
to fuel the future of America's heart attacks
easter sunday platitudes
gather the family
the saints appreciate complete congeniality
the romans scream from pulpit addiction
they cant stop bleeding
its a jesus affliction
send them money send them songs
meet in the mornings
to drink and write poems
cuz this sadness we feel
is uninsurable
no company on earth is curable
my spine rolls up and shutters
from out of the backroom comes a
mutter, someone i dont know
reaching for the tv remote control
scripted chatter and static
jesus christ is in the matrix
philosophical degeneration in every apartment
buttoned up tie with a clip on attitude,
i imagine the cops make a bust
haul me down to the station
take away my trust in the system
and my anal cherry
silvertongued newsmen lick my brainstem
shiver make me feel worthy like
newly minted nickels
spanking shined shoes in the reflection
of a Van Gogh exhibit, tripped up
in the jump ropes of an inner city tournament
khaki armored juggernaut, briefcase in hand
descend the worm-eaten stairs and stand
caressed by the gentle fist of my past
deodorized and screaming clean
to young to fold, playing this deck
till the middle implodes
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.