PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

seething yet silent in land of outrage: 
strictures of life, 
my eyes will not see the setting sun; 

this was the blind spot 
before the battle starts 
and spine turns into ramrod in hot sun – 

to speak the version of domestic grief 
without lips because the death does not come alone, 
she has a company 

of corpses swelling the earth but she also 
plays piano with two fingers only 
pouring out milk and venom 

for a long journey, we start unprepared 
I will not fall asleep