the state

/ mbrazfieldm

Out damn’d spot! Out, I say’
the bridges of my neurons are rapidly burning
crumpled bitter roses scream in the foulness of the sapphire air
we swing softly with broken fists at the rock hard sky
welcome to the New Jericho in my mind where Bob Dylan and i sing till half past nine
with tight shut mouths we quiet the temptations
red are dreams that stir profanity in what we see in the black hole deep inside
Katchinas on the plane drive in Teslas to a shame spot on the backs of believers
nefisē be’iwineti ālechi gēta ḫayilini set’enyi
the frozen lighting of impossible miracles brightens some frigid nights
and so Grady croons to the vigilante squirrels of Santa Monica California
there will be broken bones and glass and dreams and motley monks will see the candor in the stream
nicht mein zirkus nicht meine affen the periwinkle gargoyle prayed
but the scrubbing of my hands will not always cleanse the triggers that condemn me

mbrazfield (c) 2020

23 thoughts on “the state”

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