Crossroads
The pair stands before me,
Radiant, too bright for the same sky,
One with a green cigarette and
A crazed look in his eyes, one with an
Olivewood blade and a stoney grin
Choose me
The conqueror boldly declares.
Choose flame and gold and spontaneity,
Blood and bliss. Choose the patron saint
of those who make monsters,
You know you want to adventure.
Choose me
The marble goddess whispers in my ear.
Choose silver and freedom and moonlight,
Knowledge and protection. Choose sisterhood
And be safe and strong for all time.
I already found you your home.
I hold my breath,
and take my mothers hand.
Her stone skin is smooth in my palm.
and I am certain
I am home.
War
Abrasive blue men climbing a ladder
Purple rockets swoosh from brash stars
Metallic fire singes soft skin
Vintage television sets blown to scraps
Heaving perfumed wives slouched over empty caskets
Hubristic boys cock oily toy guns in the streets
Ecru noose tightens on rebel’s neck
Tangerine moon bounces home.
Rancid hope twines with bellowing grief
Soldiers addicted to lemon-lime gods
Foreign delights wrapped in rose red dresses
Timeless warmth locked in sacred dreams.
Piercing gunshots end an argument
Sour sweat mixes with sweet blood
Crimson flows from trembling hands
Violet blood kisses iron sand
Boats brimming with sons scurry along crooked waves
Home built by hearts is nearing
Hardened men dark as a bag of nails
Death goes on.
Inlandia: A Literary Journey 