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All the Small Deaths

Joshua Kight 3 months ago

All the Small Deaths

It’s six AM and the horizon
Is in flames.
A cloud drags a wedding dress
Across fields filled with fall’s
Half-lit rocks.

Men in suits walk in single file
With ear buds perched
Staring at phones held below

Like mustard gassed soldiers
Like pretzels in a river
Like crackers soaking in soup
Like bread in blood

The dented floors, the cracked windows
And the morsels blowing across the room
The earth thirsting for water
The oil leaks from a jar
Are all small deaths
That need interment
The bodies lay untended where they fell.

Who made this groaning universe?
It turns without our leave
And breaks promise after promise.
Changing the contract as the days fall away
Towards something small and cruel.

Later:

There is a night sky
Of divine fireworks
Where pinwheeling planets and stars
Broadcast to our deepest parts.
One of the suited men
Leaves the weeds
That seed to make more
Removes the ear buds
makes the screen go black
And let’s the stars
Write a novel in his heart
That he can feast
On till the end of his days

Joshua Kight 11/11/12

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