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Love in a Time of Sickness

Joshua Kight 1 month ago

Love in a Time of Sickness

by Josh Kight

A bomb went off riding waves from East to West
Torn mitochondria mixed with ripped DNA
And an army of mindless motes
marched off to a Microscopic war.

“Son,

I can see through your fever curtain
The ants that crawl your walls.
The vapors hold rumors of how you lost your way
I didn’t know that you could be so trapped
Incorporeal like flying concrete.
Returning to sand.”

They said:

“Keep a civil tongue in these uncivil times
Where we are injected with crimes
And the chattering verbs have teeth.
But slow, I know you’re out there
Aimless and hungry for rain in your mouth
washing blood off your back
Howling at the cooling skies
With Insults dribbling from a jaw that is slack.
You can never come back to the attack
But you can slip the punches
And slide out the door.”

They said:

“Keep your powder dry
When the volley is fired
Keep your eyes wired
Shut, against the dying cattle
And the farmer’s prattle
Who let them out
In to the serpent trails
Carrying buckets and pails
Rolling on wheels of glory.

The best part of us lies
Wounded and motionless
Once eaten twice spit out
Resurrected as a shiny new corpse.
The Little pac men devoured bronchial tubes
Leaving the calendars of life scrubbed clean.

“I am older than the rocks among which I sit
And like the vampire have been dead many times.”

But Slow, I know you’re out there
Lost and hungry behind affronted eyes
Hands jammed in pockets
To defend against the razors of the cold wind.
I feel love
Telescopic and telepathic
Seen from the wrong end of the lens
Heat waves are bending you
In to cobra curves
That seduce me
Before the night terrors reduce me
To tears of laughter
They caught me though I was trying
To be quiet
As I Looked at your delicate bones
Shining behind flesh sheets
Stained from bleeding beets
Sold by the girl with pleats
In her skirt at the outdoor market
Under oaks that choke the grass
In to submission.

You said:

“I’m disappointed in the dogs
Splashing in blackened bogs
Licking cream filled logs
That keep the colonies fed
While the termite dreams
Are spinning in a stream
Of speeding clocks
And rough hewn rocks.”

We all know
Your kills lay covered in leaves
And the dutiful beautiful
Cellar dwellers
Hope there is a world
Of floral joys
To return to.

You can view more of Josh’s poetry here or on his artist website.

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