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lore

just a man

drag off a cigarette smirk

a walking shell game

snake in a can

so backwards in life

one questions

reports of his death

yet

he would crookedly smile

calling it

legend

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Ha!! Me, too…

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Does this look infected?

who knew

the 6th mass extinction

on the planet

would be set into motion

not by a furious comet

instead thrown into chaos

by an insidious cloud

of misinformation

(que piano music)

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activism addiction affectation Americana art atheism baseball writing behavior belief cemeteries chronology civility divinity festivities fucking funerals geneology government government and a lack thereof happiness Hell history human behavior iconography insects Jazz kindness Lent literature local color love poetry medicine mourning nature nightmares non-fiction pandemics poetry politics pop culture psychology punk puppies religion Uncategorized

ATM

They

will sell you

candy cigarettes,

insulin,

Camel Wides,

chemotherapy,

God,

nicotine patches,

life insurance,

and a bronze casket

all

in one lifetime.

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activism Americana art cartography cemeteries death fairy tales festivities film funerals geography Hell horror nightmares non-fiction Ohio poetry punk rituals Uncategorized

midwestern death song

last night

shots rang out

slicing August’s midnight miasma

a quivering queen city listened

as Cherokee bells

echoed over cobblestones

black swan feathers topping lost hopes

filling horse-drawn funeral carriages

eighteen shot

four dead

blood pooling at the base

seven screaming hills

four shootings in Cincinnati

ninety fatal minutes

national news coverage

backlit red images

of our violent infection

suffer do we

these slings & arrows

whispering sacred prayers

to a god unlistening

please make

every bullet fired

explode into a spray

of evening primroses

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ghost light

the moment he turned

and walked away

our world became peckinpah

i can no longer discern

whose blood

my hands are weeping over

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mourning ritual

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it doesn’t work that way, cowboy

he expected me

to be true

though everything about him

was a lie

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of thee I sing

the true measure

of a civilized society

are the rumors

told by its ghosts

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aphonic

you’re a thousand poems

I’ll never write