his claim

April 5, 2009 § Leave a comment

a man born of bone and heat like any man

but unlike them he is among the walking the dead

how many daughters can claim such a legacy?

a prism of light without darkness

and thus blacker than the night

the dance that denies the waking

how silk feels against burlap

caught in the hairs

how heaven feels after a lovers spat

between father and the angels

ripples after an earth quake

forgotten like a thank you to the bartender

an apology after genocide

a hallelujah after darwin’s death

how many daughters can claim such a legacy?

tell him that the earth is still moving

when he is standing still

impossible, he would reply

tearing apart the universe to prove his point

his story retold so many times

tastes like a 3 day old omelet

like smoking the cigarette butt found

floating in cold coffee

a long sour yawn

after an insomniac night

a billion myths more numerous

than the stars

there is cancer and fucking

and teenage girls that disappear

passed the city lights


cats chasing flies

cars chasing cats

and me chasing a poem

when all he needed was someone

to listen

and string his stories together

like flags outside a monastery

but this is the 21st century

and there are no ears left for that

how many daughters can claim such a legacy?


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