This Is Not Art

Poetry to Split the Social Order

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Vertigo

vertigo plagues every step
every time bone meets concrete my stomach churns
the void that confronts me
that monster with breath like a funeral home
embalming fluid all over the floor
and bits of flesh
blowing like confetti
I am terrified
constantly
that tomorrow will come
and I'll still be here

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Abuse

Abuse patterns our bodies
wit little squares of bruises and cuts
and triangles of scar tissue
We are a generation raised on fists
and television

Friday, January 6, 2012

The Breeze

words cut through my sternum
like so many fingers held over the flame
or a knife through the flesh of a calf
mawing for its mother
as the winter comes cold and unforgiving
and the land turns to frozen sea
and the rage
the rage
it melts the land
and the people drown as the water gets higher
and the soil eats up the last of their sins
the flies and the cockroaches crawl over their bones
and vultures feast on their cataract eyes
and no one is remembered for what they made
because there is nothing
and no one is remembered for who they loved
because there is nothing
and no one will remember
because there is no one
and there is nothing