bone soreWalking into battle armed with broken tongue,
I prepare myself to succeed, climb the rungs.
But how to quell this fear by which I'm high-strung?
LeviticusSend me to the abattoir to see the light.
Let gravity drain me dry through incisions
left or reopened by your ancient hand's sleight;
bring me before altars – show me your visions.
Your word in drafty chambers weakens my knees
and, subjugated, I feel that I can see
the reason that some were not made for this life:
why would I choose to endure such violent strife?
After the StormWe fought
through the war and gunshots;
lost souls and basket cases all,
we took the fall.
After the war, we stood
with those who would,
passing a flask,
look sad with us, and ask
in voices pure:
how ever did you all endure
through the war and gunshots?
We fought.