stain'd glass city iii

every red from 100 to oh shit  
somewhere where the land is flat & dead    
fire ripe    
& scatter'd limbs, accusatory fingertip missiles point east;    
eyes up  
mouth downturn'd    
a private storm in skulls crack'd like sun-warm asphalt: -    
husks ov uproot'd saplings  
wrapp'd in the white arms ov polyester vampires  
sponging the sidewalk with shread'd tongues to stall the wilt    
belch'd from the snarling beast, fed to bursting with eucalyptus & iron  
& the pollock-esque nonchalance ov breath & fear & piss    
... count the roots  
count the limbs  
scavenge for flowers amid the desolation  
errod'd by circumstance & neglect ...    
liquor scent'd laces    
still neatly tied, a bow on scuff'd shoes    
somewhere to the west    
somewhere, someone is complaining about dust & red mud trek'd thru the front room,  
sticky hands    
papering the walls, deeper than paint or sugar soap    
& elbow grease;    
my lungs are full ov the world, loose soil kick'd into the humidity  
dispersing the flavours ov disenfranchisement, the stench  
ov unseen    
& the question to which the answer is always  
because there was no other way but striking that match    
hoping it doesn't find a source    
hoping we can keep the dirty walls
Written by _shadoe_ (yiyi)
Published | Edited 4th Oct 2022
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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