Max Sustain

At an intergalactic feast table in Valhalla.

Conversation between two organ grinders.

ORGAN GRINDER 1:

When all is gone, in a sigh, and

Science tells you all the while

The how ^ n but not the why --

What will you reply?

ORGAN GRINDER 2:

I am safe, I exist, in

Fleeting-mind protagonist

Of Story worth some proper Verse

Of Son gifted a Universe.

ORGAN GRINDER 1:

Do not get your hopes up, son

You'll be puff 'fore day is done

Never breath of fire so fine

But your life, son, is on the line.

ORGAN GRINDER 2:

Like tightrope walker I see depth

Of darkness calling to my death

But in that darkness I'll see light

If it consumes me, it's His right.

Eve

I feel the road ahead is tough

And fear of fear is not enough,

The vultures are all looking down

My shaking corpse their feeding ground.

Words blow through like hollow reed

Nothing sticks and nothing feels,

Rivers, meaning, dry like bone

Core fed, cortex left alone.

Here in wastelands, in the dark

Night of the soul wanders aghast,

If ever will there be a smile

Clutch loosened even for a while...

From awful sights torments expressed

On solid days of nothingness:

Oh, that hood raw power indulge taste

Were lifted! kind forgiving grace.

Zoo of Malfeasance

Baby eels and butterflies

Hide shady deals and utter lies.

Teach us

They taught us well   —- we grew to love

They’ve grown old and —- are leaving us

We’d rather not       —- inherit Earth

But seek to find      —- a true rebirth.

Hill

So many thoughts of good and kind

I hope we leave our shells behind:

Broken fragments of anger-shame

That left Cain with all the blame;

Our forms of monkey, gather-hunt,

Share crops and tend, then write about

Primeval fears and hopes sublime

The inkling somewhere of the Divine;

The fire that Prometheus stole

The chain and shame that he then bore

Shall we take it back and see if

They will receive it on the Hill?

That morning dew, dark wet-soaked grass

Hear Someone roaming higher lands

Take off your shoes, tread carefully now

You too, are Psyche, you too will bow

On sacred soil

In trembling Joy.

Frosted teeth

Aye, to sleep --

And maybe never wake again;

Ghosts of my children

Run across the snowy field;

I can't hold their hand,

Like in years past;

They hold mine on piss-soaked bed;

What I would give to clean theirs now

But me, the fool, how I could fume;

Alas, I fade to flesh on bone,

A burden of memories to all;

Is that my Master? or just a siren

Calling to eternal home.

No, I won't; I'll settle what I can

With however many breaths are yet given me;

Ghosts of Christmas: let me ride once more

The carriage of goodwill

As bells of hope

Pierce darkness of the soul at dawn.

monkey

am i snake? the one i fear most

rustle in undergrowth (moist)

could hurt those I love (most);

bite.

no. i am monkey:

silliest clever and cleverest silly,

proud hurting; but plays

kite -