Winters Bring the Cold

Lately
everything is drunk

All these people
sitting
empty
empty people
getting drunk

All these shitty ugly people
feeling empty
getting drunk
get more empty

I guess I’ll join
feeling empty
getting
drunk

And we’ll keep drinking
until everything is
empty
until everything
is drunk.

Clearing the Field

I am an old
animal.

I have many
broken bones.

But
if only just the one thing,
I always
carry my pride.
And, I
always have held it
high.

In removing my outsides,
I always use care.
They are hungry
for it,
and I have no room for error.

We are almost done now
with this
harvest.
And
I am old news.

U.S.A., I love you.

Today, I am discontent.
I am sat on
like an angry child.

Today, I am losing.
I am of a battle
built in the complex.

Today I am scared.
Though really, of
nothing I can see.

Today, I am beaten
by less than numbers
by faceless giants,
by centuries of old
white
men.

Fever

the red moon is falling all over
and the insects
the creatures and people
all buzz

the traffic grows louder
the colors, the clothing
grows louder

women’s legs
everyday
smooth
ankles running up to asses

and my eyes climb and fall
eyes climb
fall
just for the thrill of the look

old men sitting
by rivers and channels
rods to the wind
lines drawn back then
thrown

into the river
reels cast
reels sit
waiting for victory
a tug
the thrill of the catch

new season
and the moon falls all over