summer after dawn a second sun rises and slits open its throat
Tag: art
disrupt is too kind of a word. rebellion sounds nicer
poets on the streets do not care for academia or the laurels of the scholarly kind we write to exist in a world afraid to see reality for what it really is
ungodly designs of the flesh ruminating with eyes wide open in the light after dawn
the mist lingers above the concrete a predator ready to dive into bones
I’m looking at separated lands and displaced people and inside me something inside me stirs and tears perhaps it is a thing called conscience a soul maybe a mutter a flutter it comes from within and I listen and allow it to shape me maybe listen give the voice inside you a chance to speak
moths circle the fractured fire and sadly none will die tonight
within this space of summer halos rust and assimilate into flesh
the tongue offers manicured words and vanishes into the mouth of dust
the songs of the bone choir raises towers of salt along the coast