Sun Valley ’77 in ’23

rocket pops blue tongues

raspberry lemon salute

sweetness in my soul

bitter beer hotdog

smoke woodsy lingers in my

ponytail swooshing

the hogs growl as the

jean and leather veterans’

eyes well up with Taps

the leathery feel

of my uncle’s tired hands

while i trace his scars

a little young girl

did see the poignant pain

his tribulations

forever brothers

gone away heroes to the

Elysium Fields

woman now i am

involuntold unto wars

of chemical kind

inventory i

do take cloaked in the doctrine

of recycled pain

standing wind i hear

not the cheer of victory

the dragon is nigh

troopers in the rain

wet uniforms drenched in tears

blood flows in bad will

poignant still are the

wounds only men understood

i still stand by you

fallen do not land

social napalm comes again

eyes stay vigilant

the flicker

mbrazfield (c) 2023

the damp cold of the night

stuck to faces like wet tissue paper

in the alley where we smoked

being cool knowing all

i saw the flicker

invisible the signal

i shrugged it off

as too much alcohol

just the same

the flicker was there

tiny sparks of anguish

her eyes flashed

like wings on fireflies

then she slept

i took some steps

toward her head was brick

vomit eulogized the space

shoes torn and taped simultaneously

her wig tarry straw

7 of her fingernails fungused raw

morbid were my thoughts

approaching her in wonder

sounds escaped here and there

from her cavernous mouth

two lips as if she wore black licorice

upstairs above us

a hipster whistled

dark is the night he tweeted

the holy 18:28 she repeated

both bowed our heads to the flicker of our fate

 

dreary, Edgar

mbrazfield (c) 2022

clocks blink
like my heart
losing battles
earning scars
once upon
the midnight
dreary Edgar
you are right
this city
sigh do i
this city
this
city
you’ve reduced
me to mud
my learning
laden with
phallic thoughts
executed by goddess
tongue
still dread endures
doubt obscures
midnight throbs
the aching
of the tribe
etches deeply
on the greasy
sidewalkclocks blink
like my heart
losing battles
earning scars
once upon
the midnight
dreary Edgar
you are right
this city
sigh do i
this city
this
city
you’ve reduced
me to mud
my learning
laden with
phallic thoughts
executed by goddess
tongue
still dread endures
doubt obscures
midnight throbs
the aching
of the tribe
etches deeply
on the greasy
sidewalk

drowning

mbrazfield (c) 2023

a simple glance across the freeway
is nothing just blindness
i see them feathered creatures flying
full of methane and chewing gum
enough today so i only cried
tragic for us not having
sweet sorrow of missing we won’t know
urchins us all
we walk the music in our head
outspoken messages are
the voices in disturbia drown
flowers are unique grown in farms
across the stars fertile ground
pregnant with disease and poverty
bundled flowers of sun’s tinted roses
blushing hepatitis bud
rabbit holes he said won’t go
i count only numbers for the bosses
you will dole out the splintered crosses
a glance from LA across the bridge
work i need to stay
hold her exhausted hand
offer tissue packs
drying rain
drowning

today was hard

mbrazfield (c) 2023

today was hard
he broke the
fire sprinkler and
a flood washed
three floors down
today was hard
she woke from
elusive slumber with
hot wires slithering
through her brain
convulsions and saliva
at our feet
today was hard
he almost struck
her through the
chest where her
already shattered heart
bleeds beyond belief
today was hard
her poisoned tongue
on point ready
to kill both
of their fragile
egos in one
accusation of deviance
today was hard
there was nothing
resolved so tomorrow
we grow more
tired of this
insufferable calculated demise
today was hard

underground in solitude

mbrazfield (c) 2022

i have no desire to stop and smell flowers or tell my friend about the aroma of bread in the morning breeze i have earned the right to just wander off in these unbelievable streets barefoot to squander the last of my life i have no interest in looking for the art in my face or the strength of my wrists i have a need to talk to myself about the world that scorns me and finally be at peace to embrace the underground in solitude

undone

mbrazfield (c) 2022

watching the orange trees today full of buds and bees busy life ruthlessly buzzing forward my blood stale purple dripping from my nose the sky falling my feet facing up thoughts spilling from my ear prayer bowls howl when empty dragons chasing no longer lucrative so we reach for a key pad human thought what is where we go solid oak caskets flow among the fields of wires

about a splinter

mbrazfield (c) 2022

timeless was the crescent of your smile parted lips a sliver of teeth that when gnashed together meant a bite of delight on my neck
as those years have dwindled down the wood in my heart strips away to the core tenderness i’ve always held