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The End of Nations

created by ushdfgakjasgh

(thing) by ushdfgakjasgh (2.9 wk) (print)   ?   3 C!s I like it! Mon Mar 10 2008 at 0:37:07




I

saint I once knew said,
"no clarity in the face of locks,
nor in the presence of keys,"

quickly disregarded,
Hold a radiator, fixed
to spew such outnonsense.
a repairman waits wrenched in
a drought of patience.


II

Stolid doorframes today
held in the door-to-door salesman.
-to wince at those sounds. cross the sea
was your destination, a scholar
o' maps, mends the borders like wire.
lauded destiny to me in pamphlets.
Looked twice at him, told him there
is no salvation in bothering others mid-breakfast.
"do you still in mornings here wake,
without heed of your sin? boy
I was like you once"
the door shuts.
Were my car lined in gold, would be
a fantastic sight on Central Boulevard.
today I outlived a lot of people. kind of
reasons people buy cars, easier to carry
with an engine than your shoulders. told this
to the students today. forgive me, I've yet to
publish these dialogues. here
the train squeals in
a thousand delights, laid flat,
the rails guide themselves into the sky. noble'd
the trails of indigence,
for the satiety of none.


III

Conspired was the end at sight,
Union Station lighted into apartheid,
sometimes fell skywise to
forgive, yet to truly
show our arrogance. further south
were attempts reconciliation,
at drowning was the sign of convenience
that shot steam boats into the fog.
A littered white crossed your eyelids.
Some epics are drowned'n praises of Muse,
was enough for now.

A circuit broke sunwise through
coils of power lines, birds flew
quickly from the trees. gone the road
diamonds shoot from the earth in helices,
atop the graves of hundreds.
wrought a word from Helen, apologetics
again in the blight of saints.


IV

Shots whipped the threaded night, struck at the bus lines first. A
fury apart from the kings in
drunken curses from the tavern. The children
would ask, "Apostle, have we
yet to truly encourage ourselves?" I left
not to be bothered so simply.
Sunday would rise
soon in some triumph of garbage trucks.
"to forget consequence," I instruct,
barring - D.C. al fine, etc
the point remained.
persisted upon these
subjects for many hours.
A nest of wasps hung
outside the window covering it
in graffiti and cigarette butts, "shoo,
shoo", I continued, but
for a moment to have fallen through,
has gone, and
returned to claiming my house. distracted
from such encounters I return to point
at colorful letters and tell toddlers to recite them.
outside the deeds to houses
are torn in the hands of few, twigs
are plucked from a bird's nest and
semantically plunged to sidewalk.
forget vagrancies of speech;
arose at pressing matters,
park bench crossed back from
memory. made love in the woods
at dusk, apart from some
tired vengeance laid in part
none so easily forgotten.
thousands passed before
with not but a thought.
anticipation so easily
relinquished was your
only way to properly
ascend.


V

Today I am a diplomat. apologizing
for all the roadblocks lately. we have
many plans to get rid of the land mines,
straightened the collar and watched the crowd.
sordid banners lay streaming across the faces.
apart again from a flag 'bove the rooftop,
Jove, you traitor of princes, eclipse
in the mart walls of Samson, shotgun
flying into the Oregon nighttime,
a truck barrels into the hills. for hours
at night I find the clock some dalmatian of fire,
spilling into my palms. Forgive me this time.
they are burning cars outside, a staircase
of smoke we rise atop, traced ellipses
with your fingers in the sand once,
dug through with your toes, some
weary salt trembled over the air.
Later arrows fell from your eyes,
quivered through your palms
with a footstep into the classroom.
Half in centuries later, stood atop
podiums and declared several new
initiatives designed to curb
a variety of things. Outside
a forest laid awash, judgment of
cardboard boxes sought the canopy,
fostered in our compasses. a camera shutter
rewinds, strapped round the neck some
daughter of millions. straightens her
eyes 'gainst the glare of the sun.
apart from the encampment lies
a troop nearing a century. a pyramid
lies await mid sky, canals broke from
eyelids into the sand. carried cross our
Nile were a handful of
men atop horses, in parallel order
without a motion.


printable version
chaos

A fine mess you've gotten me into I felt as calm as the day outside. My footsteps were certain below the neutral sky. I wished there were someone watching. This information is subject to change without notice To a Poet, who would have me Praise certain Bad Poets, Imitators of His and Mine
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