Ablaze, the Fraternal Fallow

Oak Cliff Sky and in those open spaces, you would fly your flag of adoration, frustration, miscommunication, and mutilation

slicing proud, there - lashed to the stern of the vessel Hateful;

her keel lain by callouses of home - hands & feet stiff (long ago, they hauled barley, by bushel down a gravel road)

but an instant of that rarified quiet stays the haze's obfuscation, faltered: our sisters lie lynched on dire alters

our homesteads, crypts; shrines to delirium the chords of our songs left unresolved in imposters' inrequiem

plastic for stone; fiberglass for coal stale rot for flesh, cut with nothing to our bones

mirages in the mirror, darkly: devil's imps roost on red Remingtons, limp

plugged, our ears in mute

terror's gluttony, stripped down furrows of falsity's fatherly fugue truth: our souls seethe in the dark we are drowning in our own deceptions

in excess, we are barren we parade nothing but the lies which proceed the whole of Earthly pain

breathless, we are foolish monstrosities - the incongruent Lords of amplified insanity

resolute, we are the hearthen hole into which all eventually fall, famished for youth

manic, we are the monopolized manufacturers of mantra; an ambient, discordant dirge

patriotic, we produce only pervading paternal plague

nostalgic, we are the fundamental erosion of human wellness

abrasive, we are needlessly suffering - the listless harlequin of a nation

~the world is growing weary of our emergency~ and the humongous expenditure of its petty insincerities