The spinning lights spun slow in the slow motion night. Rendering the figures of authority as vestiges of spirit. Slack jawed, confused, conceptions of reality diffused. Thinking about their families, emotions perfused.
Slow motion freeze in the deep dark night. Chasing shadows in callow shadows. Vaporous breath left like death. Lost childhood that left.
If the purge came alive into the real world It would be our worst nightmares come true I've been to hell and back and would participate so it's kill or be killed The Loner of your family must die because he causes nothing but pain That's the only person I would kill The rest you leave up to fate
The priest loved Jimmy Such a handsome choir boy Yes, he loved him dearly. Years later Jimmy was a young man Serving his country. The priest, now a bishop Had the honor of Reviewing the troops Stepping in front of a Young man he recognized He stopped, gave him a smile And a wink. He later enjoyed His usual lavish supper As was his wont And while he digested with A Grand Marnier Others found Jimmy dead Hanging from a crossbeam In the drill hall.
You glisten bronze in the morning sun gliding across the sand. My pale body, barely awake, would startle anyone. I smile through my drunken fog and say, “Listen in the distance, a lone gull cries.” You look back on me surprised – perturbed. Now I have your eyes!
“We always hear the gulls cry on this beach, but don’t always have to step around drunks,” and your eyes turn quickly away.
I stare after as your form grows smaller in the distance. I memorize the lovely shape of your silhouette against the blue sky. ...