Words

poetry

The Night Uprising

publication

1000° whistled on the floor-

Was it I who healed the frowning sage doll & comforted the pale open road, while you dropped the flashing guard rail & decapitated the smiling gingerbread man?

Did you taste the acrid powder & watch the children follow a military beat?

Did you hear my father play a peaceful flute & reject the icy darkness?

Did you stand on top of the oily earth & savor the cockroaches grin like wine, while I sat beneath the chessboard tile sky & heard the firefly squeal?

I knew when I smelt the blue plastic that it was you who melted the empty saxophone with rainwater!

You who chose the path of the day & it was-

The rabid chainsaw devouring the redwoods’ sinuous trunks as the butterflies’ nectar slid on his golden watch.

The plutonium power planted on a fault line as the craven raven looked at an electric wire.

The mindful television channel streaming sterility into the toddlers embryonic imagination.

The turtle painted red on the pavement by the petroleum horse.

The caterpillars crap pasted to your seat littered from the green breathing skeletons.

But when you honored “With Satan I Deceive" & smiled to Benedict Arnold under the guise of ”In God We Trust” I bowed to Benjamin Franklin.

No longer could I ignore the raptured eyes of the fragile saplings.

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"Trust your heart if the seas catch fire, live by love though the stars walk backwards."

— E.E. Cummings