Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

the fathers of my fathers
  have died
the eyes of my fathers
  long ago stolen
  still see the cold fires
  of yesterday standing
  empty handed and bleeding
the children are flowers but
  their time to bloom
  could be moving even odd
  and on a level angle backwards
we cling to the dwellings we only
  build dreaming and even then
  always with this eternally
  liquid granite 
my bed can even burn yesterday
  with wheels on it
they tried to bury us but
  didn't know that we were seeds

but i've found i'm not going because
  there is nowhere to go which
  possesses the value
  that arrival has
  and that has always been
  a backwards chase unto death
snake with it's head up it's ass
  i have a loading dock blur
  underneath the mothership
  on a cold night
this is when crystal sugar still held
  the countenance of gold mind you
and the traces of serpentine
  technology implanted viral
  and poetic promises in
  time capsule scars
  waiting for just now
  to remember how
  to cry about it
i'm crying as i've found
  my childhood home reduced
  to glorious nature's 
  brutal anonymity though
  i also saw straight through
  the hole that it allowed me
  painfully and purified
  to crawl through
  into now
memory is a mirror
  and i can see exactly
  how much nothing 
  i've learned so far

chop wood
carry water
and tomorrow