The Terrible Poetry We Are

The fire questions. Blunt flames tease the darkness. Ample are the heavens we've created. For they belong to us. paper dolls worship the scissors.

the narrow ambition that fuels our wants. loud thunderstorms that leave the land still arid. tell the story. emancipate the past. in hungry licks on the dirty lollipop. surrender remains sweet. while victory is still sour.

time stays behind. spoiling the gods. with burnt chocolates and smeared maps. in parcels of skin. and shallow cuts. temporary monsters. gather the pauses. the quiet that comes between us. worms in the earth. sick with the surface.

I should  have been softer. the light  that waits. the thieves that remain. after everything is gone.

The soldiers move. On leaden feet. the war progresses. within the context of profit and loss.

we play. all bullets and strategy. we waste. in the scope of our private poisons. rainwater in deep barrels. slowly evaporating.

we are all cannibals when the lights go off.