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We are pulverized
Hormone-fed, locally grown meat
At the palms of a foul wind
Blowing down from
A tower spewing microscopic bits of amalgam
Until the day we are dust
This is the bottom, baby
My young optimism
Sought the preachings of Malcolm
Because he spoke fearlessly
Though he knew the outcome
I can see it too
Promises jobs hope
Rows of glowing taverns
Clouds of spiraling smoke
More corner churches and homes
Salons, carry outs, so forth
This is progress right?
But why does it feel like
We can’t quite get a piece of the pie
we rolled out the dough for

Everything blooms and dies
It is the nature of things
Let nothing upset this balance
that clips our fledgling little wings
Everything has its turn
Who knows this more than we?
The earth will be out urn
We are too sluggish for the sea
What magnificence we’ve built
Robot friends to pour our tea
Melpomene’s muses singing
dark songs out of key
And our old demons will beat us
None knows this more than me
I saw new things bloom from the ground
that could not draw the bees
And I saw rain clouds
Overhead for miles
Like in a Bedouin’s dream
But the water they bring down
Acidic more than sweet

And how does it feel
to be pounded into the ground
Lamb to the slaughter?
Left to wonder if you are
The pestle or the mortar
The color of the force pounding
On our sons and daughters
Is blue is red is white
Definitive stripes
Separation is order
Right? When the ride behind you light
Hits an officer’s badge, flickers and blinds you
Bright is the future of the bitterest pine fruit
We presume

So we cling to the tree
Waiting on the leaves to change
To fall and be collected like
Arts crafts picture frames
Cornucopias reefs
Our utopia was brief
Tulsa is still burning in my mind
Tulsa is still burned into my mind
All leaves wither and we all fall down
But we wither quickly without a spine

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