Saturday, March 22, 2014


i imagine shrapnel
that twisted metal
wrought in heat
and pain

but here and safe
in beautiful america
it's only a metaphor
even in my mind
i see shrapnel
as the mangled body
of a child, of a girl
from the blue eyes
of the boy on the bus

you can't forget shrapnel
trapped in tissue
urging out
but never

there like the shadow
the knowledge of returning
to your empty bed
the secret stone
now turned

dull throb
constant ache
blur in the side of my vision
faerie friend i can't quite see

even in laughter
in love
in every consequentive
steel rail
one on another
pour it out
sink a shot of gentleman jack
drink it down

even in sunshine
even in the bath of blood
the movies, the music
the every single stone
that builds your every day
peanut buttering bread
goodnight kisses
every dirty dish

shrapnel, always

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