Unraveled from the phrase, the word,
the dark -
Gravity unclenched his hooked fingers -
all the ropey entrails cinched painfully tight
as the Earth coughs everything
from the surface.
All things great and small
Lolled and listed feet off the ground
in sickening buoyancy.
Backlit imagery inundated everything,
leafless trees in selfies; surges crackled
lightning forked from the exit wounds
beside the crimson streamers, rivulets
etching out channels into black paradise;
devoid of literal meaning, empty
beneath the dermis of the wind
laughter can be heard like nails
carving jocund chalk outlines
where we find our place, thereafter,
where once the golden rays trumpet blasts,
and pristine clouds underfoot are charred
and laid to rest in convected polypropylene parapets fortified by moats of swirling detritus.
Centered left, pernicious gates, cross beared are flanked by eternal methane flame
YOU ARE READING
A New Chapter
PoetryPoetry after the change. A new vision of disaster and spirit. Less optimistic and more.
