Sometimes, it just comes out in words.

It’s always words,

even the images are words first,

then the screaming starts.


The fight is all we know.

The visceral cognition,

learned early,

bred deep,

beyond the bones.


Let the heavens have the stars,

we have fire of our own

and we’re going to let it raze.

Burn, baby, burn!

I never cared for culture,

just yearned

for obliteration’s cradle.


It’s a shitshow.

But goddamn,

it’s a good one.


Let the lepers keep their arms,

there’s more to see

and hear

and touch

in all the galaxies alive

than in this moment.


One paltry life.

The cost,

the bribe,

the gratuity

and still beg for more.

Raven black the river runs

and red to come.


It’s always words first,

then comes

the images.



Leave a Reply