I can’t even recall how to ask something as big as that.

The Farm

Up on the flat side of the land
An embankment, straw field
Wastes
This is your coward ground
Your collapsing sheds
Belching chaos
Metal & glass swallowed in soil

A pause by the window
Dust raining down
Each particle illuminated
A dead Winter star
Regret slid under your feet
Tripped you in the hall
Trying to swallow it
The sound suffocates

Mud stones, crushed white shells
The invisible undertow of the crops
How will you answer?
You have nothing to give them

Best get on with it now
Old crust & disdain for silence
Choke back your masturbatory anecdotes
Struggle in your carefully woven nets
You will soon answer to them

 

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~ by Athena on April 7, 2011.

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