Sunday, April 10, 2011

I am the drunken tirade
of a lonely hearted man;
I am the the bastard child
of whiskey smoke and sex.
I am the unremembered dream;
I am the unsung song;
I am the torn to pieces part
of a love that has long gone.

I am the sandy dusty boots;
the broken leather's creak;
I am the fading ember of a cigarette
flicked into the street.

I am the bottom of an empty glass;
the panties left behind;
I am the dirty powdered mirror
the morning after lines.

I am the broken typewriter key;
the ribbon out of ink.
I am the discord of a five string guitar,
where the one-eyed rat is King.

I am the Fisher, I am the fallen,
I am the fallow field.
I am the silty river bottom
where the blind bloated catfish feels.

I am the unmarked soldier's grave;
the hero left behind.
I am the click of an empty barrel
behind enemy lines.

I am the rejected marble,
I am the diamond's flaw,
I am the rising smoke that wafts
past the body after a draw.

I am the raven's rising caw;
the timber wolf's midnight bay.
I am the fear that haunts men's hearts
and stalks beside their graves.

I am moiling worm at night;
I am the undertaker's light;
I am the wailing widow's spite.
When you fall, I am the unseen height.

In your ointment, I am the rotting fly;
I am the splinter in your neighbor's eye;
Upon your lips I am every lie;
I am your empty stomach's cry.

I am the first stone thrown;
I am the sacrificed son;
I am the wish you should be careful of
and your regret once the deed is done.

I am the eye, I am the tooth,
I am the coveted bride;
I am the river runneth red;
and the golden calf you hide.

I am the slouching beast that creeps;
I am the riddle and the Sphinx;
I am the whip and the master's drum;
I am the binding chain and the scorching sun.

I am the cotton and the field;
I am tobacco's leaf and the poppy's yield;
I am the ship and the selling block;
I am the raping soldier's cock.

I am the diamond, I am the mine;
the infected blanket and the railroad line;
I am the fallout and the spreading sore;
the prison guard and the jail-house door.

I am the branch, I am the noose,
I am the guillotine;
I am the salty sponge and leather straps;
I am electricity;
the blindfold and the firing squad;
full syringe and open child-proof caps;
I am the razor's edge,
and the ambulance driver's lapse;
I am the oil soaked rags and
the accidental match;
the spoiled smoke detector and
the oven door unlatched;
I am the slick shower floor and
the left out drying mat;
I am the rotten brake-line and
the surgeons unsterilized hand;
I am the forgotten land mine and
I am the wasted land;
the armor's chink;
the broken knife;
the broken condom and
the reaper's scythe.

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