for wood paneling and faith
ambulance sirens have replaced
in the morning dew church bells
and all is laid to waste. Pillars
of structures deemed functionally
obsolete the megaphone don't
switch on anymore but the
throats still yell from the floor
George Washington crying in
the gutter green tears like mint
julep a forty dollar dish I
can't afford any more than
what I can afford, 99c fries,
soap, a bus ticket and the
sunlight, somewhere, on the
afternoon of a lifetime
uprooted in chaos.
Slowly we unravel our
hands reaching from the
gravel to the sky that turns
to space is much too far to
travel and there are lengths
to go, despair to share and
a thought process to keep
ignited against the blare of
misinformation that stabs
(they don't care) the chords
along our necks have
amassed much wear
and tear.
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