A narcoleptic yokel on software and culture.

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

#poetry