in one twenty twenty one

they the prophets write
words chilling to think all through
numb symbols of prole

could it be they be
saviours with synthetic inks
prayers that result

mbrazfield (c) 2020

tragedy smiling
far out into the clouds go
fumes of redemption

season of promise
idols showing their true forms
flowers in the eyes

mother of pearl moon
tonight the uncertainty
oozes out surely

ulcer

mbrazfield (c) 2020

acid rain drop tear
eye field of grain
gypsy cloth for burial
standing we don’t stop
just beyond the starline
shelter roof of water
floor of heaven hell
grew cold of waiting
ulcer in the chiding
mouth of goddess  in
between  the deaths of
lives less killed  our
candied bitterness let’s build
a temple maybe five
before the swallows fly
back stoned to nests
tipping over ashes was
the flowers of my
bed in hair graying

non sequitur zoo

go to the junction where the crow caws and feel like coffee grounds are sacred don’t trample them with emotional support gobblers in the wind do you think pterodactyls clucked the motor is stuck in the mud skipper makes no whistling rattles die they steal watermelon slices from the post man in Cairo i don’t think so but Henrietta will investigate the portfolios of one hundred gazelles with tiny hooves drilling and crunching across the moss that could potentially grow in the Sahara over by the airport where the sea gulls screech holding up old ladies for their drinks pigeons collect the Groupon deals cooing at the seams of insanity