Deliverance is on the Next Train
not looking
not even a little
huddled under the forgotten
the parade of faces
lives, roughly hewn
in the furnaces of life
the remains are painful
known for so long
under a raspberry sky
beginning to swell
yes, I said swell
becoming so large
ungodly in its sight
more than we can count
waiting for the ghost
that hides in the closet
to melt in the summer heat
like clapping hands
and stomping feet
so sticky to the touch
we can never wash it away
not in this life
born too many times
a prayer for your ribs
one is missing
it fell out from you
and no one can explain why
the edge is so jagged
rusty from so many years of use
my heart buried in the bookshelf
ten needy fingers
my head on the carpet
listening for the buffalo
my lips move, but there is no feeling
no drops of blood from my soul
I shout at the stars
ask them why they are silent
born with this bad sign
the curse of my fathers
keeps me here
bound to the wretched land
waiting for a deliverance
that never comes
© Deep Piercing Cut 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment