Take this month and close it out.
Tear it down,
blindly disregard
the attraction
to silence,
when science is fucked
and noose laden
barns,
rot and tempt
your soul.

Breathe with me
violently,
in covered wagons
we run
from them.

Out of nothing
came this night,
when all the able children,
stabbed in their sleep,
and forgotten,
awoke in cornfields of blood,
daisies lining their pockets.

And give not symapthy
for mother,
please (god) let her be,
for she is the black smoke,
floating across the sky,
looking down on her son.

For they are the dust,
the smoke,
the corn and blood,
of the earth.

Don't remember this hollow cause.

07/31/2009