the dead flag blues

2005-06-17, 1:21 a.m.

one a.m.
i drove home and the seeded skies fall down on my car but i am the only one on these roads right now.
i watched the radio tower disappear under the earth. when the starving mother of us all plead for sustinance, she took her bite from the heart of humanity, so much that the earth collapsed from heartbreak. this is the last circle of hell, a treachery against kin. this is the wallpaper that is laid on the floor of hell, where savage cruelty keeps any shining soul in the stomach of a decomposing animal.

oh, this is the lowest of existence, but
the drafts from above can remind anyone of summertime, or the first static cling of a woman's lips on your skin. the people who have declared bankrupcy of the soul will spend eternity living for god, tacit and unatatched to the vivid dreams of youth. i can not sign away the
self determined appendages of my body for the stories that were told by drunken men, huddled in their insecurity; even two thousand years ago, men were coping with bulimia of the mind. you cravers, you comedic killers, find a new way to enflame sunken chests and do not seek the protection of your childrens futures in a moral prison.

i drive by the same building as last night, with a pale orange american flag wavering half erect in the dark. these are the time you see the lights of planes, and these are the time you catch the moon peeking through the soupy clouds to check on her sleeping youth. one day we will all awake to what i saw one day; when i lay in the wet grass and was reborn in the dripping green swords that shot from the ground next to my face.