deepundergroundpoetry.com
Hymn to Destruction
i.
in the end
women opened their throats
loud enough to hear
confessions & testimonies
those words waited for therapies
every Monday with smart suits
and dying yucca plants to write
the words: “never release”
ii.
hibernation with the folks
after insanity blew your fuse,
back to where the forests
were no longer alive
it wore big shirts, found Jesus,
took up climbing and smoking
in a beat up car.
Death with too much to say.
iii.
I never hunted a rabbit
I didn’t eat, my dear—
you were never going
to be an exception
like the time you married
a man, and dropped
your heart into my hands
begging for release
iv.
tea is cold, love
and so are you
crumpled in your
wordless sheets
leaving in silence
on a barren Sunday
amplifying the point
of your question mark
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