070416 drifting gunsmoke

July 4, 2016

firearms, two feet too limp to draw the line
fireworks, four run scared defining where
frantic pops and cracks call home a parody
impairing me inside a simulated war zone

drifting gunsmoke, shifting minds broke
bodies hanging by a thread
brittle twigs breaking peace, groomed to tinder
snap, psychopathologize the head

PTSD-slinging chickenhawks
hiding behind doors with locks
cultivate the urge to purge
some celebrate with lead

commemorate atrocities, commensurate
with anxious ease, shock accompanies “oohs” and “aahs,” lying
sighs of relief sacrifice like lambs of stature, dying
manufacture living dead

injured lovers flying, follow falling stars
distant fuel feeding cars, run for cover far away
consume before collapse inflames, rush to work
insane, go berzerk from daily bread

contained explosions, aimed implosions
weapons made by monsters of the id
volcanic churning lake of fire
burning landscape, life and limb
like a bomb without a lid


Reading Lolita in Tehran…in Kuwait…

September 11, 2008

On one of our last days in Kuwait, we went out to a (or the) main market place.  It’s basically a web of pedestrian-only streets lined with open shops and booths selling almost any and every type of thing people might ordinarily want to buy (and a few things that people might NOT want to ordinarily buy…).  It was definitely a highlight of my time in Kuwait, and the reason has absolutely nothing to do with what’s for sale.

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