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It was like the steam from a pot of grits, Like melted butter Like crisp pancakes from a cast-iron skillet Like fragrant coffee A brewed fine-art, Our morning elixir Ever-scalding to the touch Like a midnight storm, The rolling thunder That shakes you awake In the daybreak of youth Like the long embrace Of a…
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There was an agile ghost in the hills He emerged in white; Snarling on all fours In the silver light of dawn He carved a lone path through the mist As a murderous hail of arrows Fell bursting off the rocks The ghostly villain Calmly weaved his way down, Unafraid of the beasts Who only…
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Winter grinds me up Into a flowing sludge, Seeping and drowsing Through the faults in the ground Winter keeps me anchored in the shadows To quietly reminisce on old storms In its still black waters But not this season On this sulfury eve Of annihilation
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The skies were raven-black Through this embattled year Leaving my words minced and snarled together When the world was kicked along, Like a discarded pebble In the everyday rush As all of my wordless kin Became distant and grey, And I crept across the void To find a hearth Still burning with life
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He is consumed in a lingua-franca, By a tyrant’s soft song By tall-tales of romance By cruel fables of flight He is loyal to whispers To the living murmurs Of a “paradise” lost Ancestral myths Are scrawled out for him Across the bathroom mirror Each blood-shot dawn
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I float among orchid petals On a tragic tide, Before a singing fleet Of black ships I’ve drawn them all away From the ports they call home Friends, rivals and kin To an isle in the west Where I will bask and rust, Upturned in the sand As they turn to the east
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Downriver, there’s a remedy By a lone bonfire; Reaching high Into a starlit night Downriver In a warm reverie Life stirs restored In the honest rays Of a late-spring sun Downriver and over the falls Through a curtain of fog I will crawl on dry land At last
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Hogtied in a wooden vessel And kicked to the surf Prayers rise into the night For my untimely voyage
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Bulging black skies have sprung a leak Now the morning’s soaked And seeping through To the marrow of my bones Dawn’s slick roads Have left me stranded On a marshy isle; Teeming with ghosts
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There’s a melody trapped in my skull, Bursting with life In a nest of barbed wires A sweet remedy, Lives in my pulse, In the blood red vise That tightens each night Tomorrow sets fire to my stomach, In spite of these dragging months Of wind and rain
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