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ira

mymotherlovedtotellme
thegrassisalwaysgreener
butiknowforafactthattheotherside
holdslessfunerals

whereistheholylight
inthebloodshed?
asachildidrewhalos
overthemedicsclutchingcorpses
totheirchestsbut
ineverdedicatedhymnstothe
peopletheyheld.

icalledmyselfapacifist
untilallmygoodbloodranout.
istartedwavingfiststokeepmyhopealive.

ifitisunholytohate
(ifitisunholytohurt)
iamnotmadeinyourimage


memory

swallowmeincitylights
todrownintheendlesswinternight,
andweaveacrownofsmokeandfrost
untiliforgetwhatihavelost.

weakenedcoffeeformidnightstretches
oftvlightandthoughtsinfected
bydreamsofother,muddylives,
whichdawnthenslices,asaknife.

pleaseforgivethesinfulsun
itdoesnotknowwhatihavedone.
theskyisblood,theheartisweak
thereisnodarknesswithoutsleep.


allthebestpoetsarecynics

theresnothingbeautifulaboutbelieving
everythingisdamned
hellwouldbefartoocrowded

ivespentapproximately
athousandmidnights
believingthesunwillneverriseagain

fatalismisprettyfuckingeasy.
wecanrollthebodiesuptofacetheskyandsay
iampoisoned
wearepoisoned.
blamegod.blamepain.blamehate.
dontblameme.

asifwecouldnthavestoppedourselves
asifwecouldnthavetried

hopeishard
painful
brave.

itisworthit.


thesongbirdssangandicarusfell

envythequickdeathoficarus

waxwhichsettlesintoseaglass
featherswhichsinkbeyondreach
achildishwhisper,frozeninmist

daedalussearched
(themanwhodesignedthegreatlabyrinth)
tonoavail

lindmoorcreekbed,3:32am

thecreekalwaysfloodsinthespring.
isinktomykneesin
waterthecolorofash
andwonderhowbigsomethingmustbe
beforeitrisesandfallswiththemoon.

thestarslightmelike
somethingdivine.
pallidandghostlysuitmewell.
crownmeinflowers
andmoonlightandmud.

iwaneclosertomadness
thanihaveeverwaxedimmortal.
inthemorningiambacktobeing
thepatient.
inthemorningiwillbesickagain.

but

thenightisliftingandthecoldissettlingandiamsogladtoexist

mygirlfriendisafraidofspace

youcantcountthestarsbut
youcantry.
therearelessnobleways
towastealife.
thereisdust
greaterthanus
wecannotfathom
ofthesun.
iamsmall
iamterrified
withoutagod
iamhardlysanctified.
isitunholy
tobesmall?
isitunholy
tobeatall?


dearbukowski

ihateyourgutsbut

youwerethefirstpersonwhotoldme
thatsometimesitdoesnt
stophurting
andthatsokay.
livingthroughthepainis
worthit.

idontrememberatime
ivebeenfreedfromhell
butivestoppedtallymarking
thewalls.

ivemademyselfalifeworth
living
whichinvolvesahell
ofalotofpain.
theworldisstill
abeautifulplace.

thereanimatorofthedead

astraightshotout
ofmortality
throughfabricationof
divinity.

defydeath
createlife
itwillkillyou

youdidnotcreate
amonster
notofcorpse
notofyourself.

intheend,
ithink,
youwishedthatwasntso.

itishardtobe
human.

oneden
i. in bible school, they told us god madeevefromadamsbrokenrib.tracingtheshallowsofmy
chest,iwonderwouldminecreate?orweretheycreated?
ii. eve may have been the first sinnerbutadamsawthatsinwasgood.adamswalloweddefiance
evenafterhesawitbeginningtofester.
iii. the fruit, the knowledge of good and evil, made us human. not because we knew good, but
becauseweknewevilandlovedit.
iv.didadamandeveeverspeakofedenaftertheirfall?didtheirsonsfallasleeplisteningtotales
of paradise, locked away? or did cain and abel grow up learning to never mention the garden
acrossthewaytheangelwithhisswordoffire,eternallywaiting.
v. who cares for eden now? does the angel raphael ever leave his post to water the flowers and
feedthebirds?or doesheleaveedentodie?tostarveandwiltinthememoryofhumanitysmost
innocentsin?

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CreativeCommonsAttributionNonCommercialShareAlike4.0
InternationalLicense
asofSeptember5,2015

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