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ryan-bowdishPoems
There is a pounding at the door. Soon it will fly open. Men in gas masks will flood the hallway. With shotguns. You have so much to live for, man, don't do this. We'll come in if we have to. But we just want to talk. Your children love you. God knows why After the things you have forced them to see. It's humid and the air is causing the culdesac to shimmer Just above the road, like we lit the tar on fire. Gangsters lean on their cars to watch Your misery unfold. Helicopters keep breaking my concentration Glowing eyes from the floor A collapsed heap of laundry Rustic All curled in on herself. Where did we go wrong? How did it get to this? How did the police get involved? Smashing up counter-tops with a golf-club. The windows are breaking and tear gas starts to rise. The last thing I taste is formaldehyde And then steel And then red life Flowing out the holes And the orifices. Carry the children out. Give them some air. Move along. There's nothing to see here. How is the wife? Carry her to the stretcher. Another day in the life. Tomorrow will be better.
0
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 2:15 PM UTC
10-40::10-61
There is a pounding at the door. Soon it will fly open. Men in gas masks will flood the hallway. With shotguns. You have so much to live for, man, don't do this. We'll come in if we have to. But we just want to talk. Your children love you. God knows why After the things you have forced them to see. It's humid and the air is causing the culdesac to shimmer Just above the road, like we lit the tar on fire. Gangsters lean on their cars to watch Your misery unfold. Helicopters keep breaking my concentration Glowing eyes from the floor A collapsed heap of laundry Rustic All curled in on herself. Where did we go wrong? How did it get to this? How did the police get involved? Smashing up counter-tops with a golf-club. The windows are breaking and tear gas starts to rise. The last thing I taste is formaldehyde And then steel And then red life Flowing out the holes And the orifices. Carry the children out. Give them some air. Move along. There's nothing to see here. How is the wife? Carry her to the stretcher. Another day in the life. Tomorrow will be better.
ryan-bowdish
Written by
ryan-bowdish
American
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 2:15 PM UTC
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