AFTER THE WAR
It’s after the
trial
when you’ve passed
their test,
whatever will come,
will still be our
rest.
POTS
Another cracked
bowl
finished. Perfect!
MACHINES
There’re machines
that fly
And machines that
scry.
But those that I fear
Are machines that
die.
BOILED WINGS
Murder from the skies.
Then darkness,
as a witch’s vat
bubbles and boils
away
everything.
Soon, flesh will fall from
bone
and the lights
go out,
leaving earth, as they must,
for the distant stars.
And in those final
breaths,
voices will sound out
like the breaking
of bells.
FATE
Fate dropped a
penny,
then the other
shoe.
Both fell to
heaven,
To land beside
you.
ORBIT
It
had been coming for a long time.
You
could see that now.
If
you’d been more observant
you
would have seen lines of doubt
etching
themselves across her face.
You
might have taken them for a sign,
or
a guide to look deeper.
...
Then
one day (suddenly it seemed)
you
notice she frowns around you,
how
she’s given to moods and fits
of
impatience.
You
began to quarrel over things like flags
and
rain and other bits of the inconsequential.
That
glow, once always upon her
whenever
she moved about you,
grew
cooler, fainter.
She
became distant, aloof,
regal,
you once criticized,
though
she was never your queen.
Over
time, you grew to resent her.
But
you never thought
to
wonder why she changed.
Or
how it was done.
In the end, she became an irritant,
an
unpleasant reminder.
So, you
chose to ignore her
and grew indifferent to her presence,
sundering the final gravity between you.
And
when she left
you
neither mourned nor rejoiced.
You
simply looked elsewhere
for your
reflection.
PERSPECTIVE
“BE GONE!” roars
Elephant.
“GET OFF!” parries
Ant.
If one could just see
What the other still
can’t.
SPARE
THE ROD
Rap
for the knuckle.
Pinch
for the nose.
Bullet
for my baby,
plucked
like a rose.
ENGAGING
THE VOID
Death is currently busy
at this time.
Please stay on the line
and a Grim Reaper
will be with you shortly.
AT
HOME
Home.
“This
is home.”
A
stranger sound
than
“alone.”
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