Buildings,
Walls angrily
Ripped away leaving the raw
Skin so close to blood
Tender and vulnerable
Now, facing the wind sun
Rain.
The poet moans in loud, sometimes angry,
Doldrums
Blindly dropping each word, like sweat,
Refuse. His voice, a
Monotone of sorrow.
Broken bones,
Walls, machine gray
Mortars of old replicas, old fortifications, old lies
Now stand visible and repulsive. A Day,
A simple day gone past.
And I cannot see beyond
The bitter, bitter sun persimmon.
Just another whisky and off it is to the woods
Where I had been the night before and
The night before that
But all that is left is the campfire,
That burnt out campfire and peat moss.
A damp forest and
A figure where once a woman lay.
She carried a lantern,
A bouncing light in the distant wood.
O free me from this expansion of time
That holds, in a single breath, my body floating
Above the complex doom of Hades’
Stars and scars, infinite remorse and pain.
Give me the peace to lie down at last and be free.