untitled II

this city is a graveyard that he

built beneath my skin.

asphalt paving roads upon

the bones that rest within.


it rounded off my edges and

it watered down my lines

when the moon rubbed elbows

with its crown of neon signs.


half the world is dying and

the other half is dead;

the ashes on my knees

were once the fire in his head.


i saw the city’s chest release

and open to swallow the sun.

he thought his god would fit inside

the barrel of his gun,


and now it’s raining in the desert

and this graveyard is alive.

come, let’s take a coma nap.

let’s go for a puddle dive.


Phoenix, AZ

The End

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