It is only a dream
Written July 2024Notes: Yes I know I've been slacking off with my writing over the summer. Shrug, it happens. Hopefully I can get myself back into the swing of things
Between, my forefinger and, my thumb
I hold a small bullet
and I try
to force it between my own eyes
and the Head of the faults of my country
The bullet, is metal, I cannot name
ridged
produced at Mass
Of smog, fat and eats like smoke
consumes my house and my hands
rolls into streets, crammed with cold fingers
and illiteracy
Shuffled between the shelves, of an officespace
in a car with no AC
Fatter than debt checks and blood in the bullet
Fatter than war mines
hungrier than voices
of Seething of riots of, guilt, of
Conversations and non profit and
, business feet,
convenience,
I am of one or, two minds,
of million or
Coughing up I am a savior and a
thumb and a forefinger,
A bullet, We are,
Fish inside a tank
Cats in crates
Mice of mazes
Spreading thin and wantless
I hold the, mouth between my forefinger and my thumb
Ingest money like the face of a goat
Eat and we eat,
cruise ships and the
green grass of white golf
big pit of waste in our stomachs it is,
Violence,