Thursday, January 12, 2012


A fault-line
Tripped implosion
Leveling this sacristy.

Calloused toes,
Skin atop corroded nail,
Filtered rust to vein,
Futures collapsed under
Rotted board.

Uselicity vanquishing
Rational defense.

Pain so rigid
It feels like death.

The raven and the vulture
Hover above this home’s empty shell.
Circling…in wait
For maggots to appear.

1 comment:

  1. Some real down and dirty negativity today, those maggots should just go away. Nasty beneath my feet, and buzzards over head. I don't want to be dead..haha