S T A R E S
Where is the wound that shines?
Well Over 50 years on
Over this his day, on?
My Back way against all this memorial day shite here
I’ll intentionally send me to a ill-shielded shy there,
Back at again to that day where
I’m Far too young to fathom,
Or even notice yr. crevasse,
Yr Grande Malaise,
Yr. countdown…Yr. Pass.
It makes me madly think now
It takes the saddest thing to tell now..
Stuck in a stack of old NewYorkers
There’s this raw cartoon drawing;
A mere boy drawn in black & white
Stands on a step of his own basement, stares,
He did look down on his own livid apocalypse,
His lips, and the caption say
Here is the wound that shines
Tonight, a glint off yr. cracked onyx ring.
I lift it in my open fist to…
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