Envying Prometheus
pecked at like a polystyrene carcass
careful not to swallow circles
harmful to my health, internal discord
between the meat of the message and
the spoiled flesh of empire, poised to
rot in the baking sun after winter is gone
preserved for now in cold, sub zero
frozen in the time extending between
here and the end of all things.
Under the thumb of a vengeful god
I could be nothing but a smudge of red
or a patch of snow that smells like iron,
crimson blemish on the white ground before
you, but nothing will wash away. Tears won’t
bleach the crime scene from the memory
of whatever or whoever remains when
I’m gone and you are too, souring as
the seasons move and cold things retreat
all that’s left is the corpse rotting, streets
consumed by plagues of flies that feast
on all the lies you told when asked if
it was right for to YOU to preach belief, you
told me trust in god and I asked you
if god believes in me? blood splatter on the
church steps where you told me to wait
for a sign, rain clouds brought something
born of a fruit that rots there on the vine-
the soil was spoiled before the thaw let
spilled blood soak the earth again, nothing
beautiful will grow here tomorrow but
wild flowers often follow where we fall, and
after blooming scatter on the wind and
meadows form and petals flutter when
we remember.




"all that’s left is the corpse rotting, streets
consumed by plagues of flies that feast
on all the lies you told when asked if
it was right for to YOU to preach belief, you
told me trust in god and I asked you
if god believes in me?"
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beautiful beautiful beautiful