September 26, 2024
Poem by Lorin Drexler
rows and rowstrash and meth
odors and vowel syllabics
police doing their job
everyone just doing their job
upholding shells
fighting for a dead horse
doomsday system
until the stretched hands of midnight
reach the regulator and exit the sun
rows and rows
rotted teeth and ghosts
monks in tents at 118+
old forgotten maids
employed to clean the
remains of battered nights
church buses praising jesus
jesus lapdogging ice baths
howls controlling the barometer
of heat and vision through
a pupil in the sky
pigments of reform transgress
cradles of rehabilitation
nobody understands
the syllabic blather
trolling the streets
spewing like slime
frying molecules
firing synapses
melting brains
g o d
the old gangster
demolishing subspaces
out of human recklessness
rebelling as time rewinds
in the wild thrust
of an iron fist
that falls before twilight