Sixty-five

Flashing by
Like newsreel
Wounds of war, farms, and vast cathedral
I hear the piano in my head
Like the artillery shattered glass

Smell the smoke and powder
Dance to the shouts
The firearm percussion
Awake fear
Roust the angel

Wild Flower

This flower
Petals poison
As sure as a firing squad
Makes heavy red dye

She swallows every drop of me
Eats me alive
Unclothed, swaying in the night breeze
I can't sleep from fear.

Hyperspace

A copy of me.
Living another life.
Another, dead before his time.
More playing in grand stadiums.
With children.
Having sex.
Killing.
Living.
A copy.
Infinite Xerox.

Atoms

Barefoot on glass.
Radiate outward from this point.
A vast circle.
Perfect in every way.
Beautiful like the taste of her skin.
The flow of her hair against my belly.

Copper cologne.
Rising up from the road.
I ramble on.
Hear the sizzle as blood and asphalt copulate.
Somewhere in another universe,
I feel your tongue in my mouth.

Hell

Wind tears across the plain.
Carrying acrid grit and the screams of tormented.
Demon hands, tacky with filth, claw and tear.
A limb here and there.
Silent, as they pull me apart.
I chose this.