Thirsty like lilies
beyond the befores we had in bags,
rinsing out the inside,
chimed tips of tongues
you said the word “Socialist”
like you weren’t human
you said the word “Liberal”
like you have never loved your mother
but We killed Timothy McVeigh twice,
our hope can’t pay the rent, stop the beatings,
or feed us grains, fish, hands forgotten uses, wanting to make clocks,
grocery store closed and no tools
no calluses, or simple thoughts, don’t know the names of clouds,
no idea where soil begins
and starvation ends,
seedless robots that forgot how to be tender
care taker, of the garden,
a Manifested observation of the it, and all,
roots shrivel under strip-mall transplant
and he said “what good are shoe laces anyway?”
a terrible tenderness not meant to condescend
broken
in the middle, it is the ends that
hold it together
the means, these bullies bantering
in our Pompeii basement tomb
separated by wealth
conjoined in ash, when the suffocation ended,
don’t say orange to me again
begging for change-of perspective, singing
into barrels for resonance and an answer
a fever, chasing, rampage, total silence
swallows us in the ending
of paragraphs, epitaphs, and polygraphs.
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