promiscuous rhapsody

the words written cross my life are empty as they leave me,
broken pillars uprooted forests.
the space between becomes larger
and gone are all the horses in a night of surly dreams.
where gods divine the truth and let loose a ball of thunder
we sit in pouring rain and winds that
blow hot with the smell of what is not to be.
let man pull down his master,
break every bone and hammer christmas to the cross,
before he knows the answer
before his life is lost.
movie lives are lived and swallowed in every city,
by deaf and dumb and forgotten why they come and
they come to be counted and marked,
to be pulled from empty promises and
lives past meaning left in chairs at
bus stations with bags of filthy wash
the saints are sitting waiting for their turn
waiting for their beginning.
when prophets wail from on high and
the truth is washed down every gutter
the children play inside the walls and
die before they ever know what hangs from the tree
the bitter fruit
the last vestige of sanity
in the promiscuous rhapsody
of broken promises and new machines.
be demon blooded by the murder of the children
in the streets where open season
on the poor and the unforgiven never ends.
every light in every window dims and
breaks into glowing eyes and sceaming voices.
the past is lost in the lies of the future.
preach gods and promises before the slaughter
of the fruitless generations,
teach the dead.
where so many lie and every life dies
who are we to cast our fish into the sea,
to bring more misery by making meat
for every victory.
my sight is behind me,
my words written
without the care for the time at hand,
in every life the madness seizes and
the armchair sailors chant for their catch
to rain down from the sky.
in empty waters beats a drum of human flesh
lashing slaves to run across the broken waters.