Everyday
As I am lifted from
The depths of
Bullet transportation

Up
And
Out

To the busy city street
Leading me to where
I'm supposed to go

The word Conveyor Belt
Comes to mind

Every face
The same
As the day before

Clouds white and stained
Stupid, unworthy pillows
That the angels won't even touch -
They prefer that Tempurpedic stuff

Expensive taste
Those angel's have

God must have
Rubbed off on them

The belt spins
The bolts are stainless
Shining naked like a
New born baby in the
Sacramento River sunlight

The oil thicker
Than the first mud of Earth

Thicker than one-hundred faceless
Soldier's blood
Mixed to perfection
With sympathy and
Black newspaper ink

Thick as the human heart
In its final moments

The last three beats
Echoing loud like the screams
Within the insane asylums and
Delivery rooms:

Buh-bump,

Buh-bump,

Buh-bump.

Then,
At long last,

Silence