March 24, 2017

Seven specks through the loudspeaker
Bottles that don't love us
Biblical faces staggering out into the night
I turn reflection at the wagon doors
Uneasy at the birthmarks
Contradictions flying from eye to mouth
Violence so heavy
A compass of metal melancholy
That presses the fury out of my lungs
Another town sleeps at zero
Unknowing of the quicker temper
Of newspaper print and chalk at the strides
A mountain no one prays for
I drum into a shadow
Uneasy at the slow blue crush
Caught up in the notice of a heart

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