WIP poem for a new project. Poetry is something I’ve never studied or really practiced – We’ll see how this turns out:
In between the skulls, stacked twelve stories high,
the brackish pools, cypress walls, and mossy carpet,
fluttering reptile covens, and cloudy gray sky,
Stand, man, stand damn tall against the windy cry
“murder”.
Street corner physicians and by the hour
girlfriends blow kisses and whisper love.
The weak and poor huddle together and cower,
and spit obscene shit, and scream “It’s now or
never.”
Mankind is unkind, man.
Hustlers rape and politicians bribe,
and fuck you cause they can.
Mankind is unkind, man.
Southern discomfort comes in waves,
Twos and threes cheap clinic connections circle
and drip yellowy heaven that saves,
Trip hard a path that blazes and paves
onward.
Personal mayhem and a path to kill,
Your best friend drugged and out on the floor
Artful revival paramedic skill,
and you don’t care that his hearts still
beating.
Mankind is unkind, man.
Don’t you hate this town and this life,
the fucking dirty air and swamp land.
Mankind is unkind, man.
I don’t pretend to understand they why or how,
or where the need comes from.
It’s still enough to know certainly now,
what abuses the vile and beaten allow
freely.
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