Surrounded by mud
our feet make love to the surface
                                                        the bullets kiss us, the bayonets hug
                                                      our intestines.....

                                         The blankets
                                        cuddle with our cold, decaying corpses

we write to our wives, letters that will never be delivered

                    the wet ground gives our feet an unpleasant present
                    in the form of gangrene,

the rats  make themselves at home,

feasting upon the rotten
                                 flesh of fallen comrades.....

the maggots make use
of newly formed skulks and aged decaying bone

                                         then comes the symphony of artillery....

    the roar of gunfire, the marching of tanks
                                                    the mighty foot soldiers, and
                    the majestic golden smoke of mustard gas

          the trenches become our unwanted love
         and our unholiest of homes......

"The tears do not shed
the blood does not spill, and the soldier does not die"
is the common the battle cry sung upon us


            these bitter notes of blind fate forever sing to us
                                          

                                               the illusion of life and the irony of war.....

Little black fruit swaying in the hot summer sun
such succulent skin shriving, baking beneath the crisp, green leaves
what strange fruit hangs from the cottonwood tree?

What sour fruit falls to the earth and makes a thud?
whose blood soaked flesh leaks into the underbelly of the earth
whose body lays motionless....
whose once sweet flesh now sways in the autumn breeze

what strange fruit hangs from the cottonwood tree?....

I want you to understand how I feel
I want you to understand why I am the way I am
I want you to realize what you've done to me,
that when I see your face and hear your name, I lose myself completely...

The stench of ****, *****, and feces
immediately hit my senses
as I step over ***** syringes
and white, powdered filled baggies
the imperfect combination
of ****** and overdose
the drool dripping out of their mouths
and the sight of eyeballs rolling
into the back of heads
I see the hookers who parade around
in their birthday suits
who's bodies resembled that
of a skeletal corpse, and of course
who can forget the music
that shakes the exterior
of a cracking foundation
half-dead bodies moving and grooving
to the sound of a repetitive beat
but the irony out of all this of course
is the transaction.....
the meeting between men
the sell of deadly prescriptions
and the lost of finances
only to repeat its licentious cycle again
but this is nothing.... it's actually quite normal
in the stomping grounds of the ghetto....

Your breast were the softest pillows
I've ever laid my head upon.....

It's 3 P.M, Sitting, staring at the reruns of Jeopardy and Seinfield
a microwave steak and some potatoes
sit gingerly on the tray, crunchy and frozen....

It's 5 P.M., a bottle of room temperature beer
cuddles itself around my hands
some potato chips spread across my lap.....
the television remote and I sit inches apart
yet, the separation feels like miles

It's 7 P.M., cold, rusty water pelts my naked flesh
the bath towels feel like steel wool
every little fiber, scratching and tearing at my skin
the soap is as tough as rubber......

It's 9 P.M, bed bugs have swarmed my mattress
scratching and biting, I smash one and a million more follow
some are flat and dry and some explode with leaking blood....

It's 11 P.M. I slip into my dungarees, there's a ***** spot
in the middle of the seams.... my shovel is rusty....
the van leaks exhaust and it bleeds gasoline

It's 1 A.M., I gaze at the tombstones and they gaze back
a foggy midst looms from the hills, it's raining....
a flash of lighting strikes, bright as the sun itself
thunder rumbles the earth.....

It's 3 A.M., strolling by the red light district
a back alley *******, no condoms....
ten dollars for one hour, twenty for two
I only have five.....

It's 5 A.M. the sun begins to rise
beer bottles pilled at my door
saliva, drying at the seams of my mouth....
back into my bug infested abode.....

I went to visit my friend, Frank
I shouted his name and to no response...
this was the first time in six months
that I went to visit him....
he already depressed about losing his father
and having his wife leave him....
I tried to get his number, to call him
but... he simply disappeared
I got in touch with one of his co-workers
to get his address...

the first I notice when I visited was the unhinged doors
and the broken wine bottles

I went to the kitchen
the first thing I noticed there was the smell of spoiled milk
and the first thing I saw were the rat droppings
and roaches crawling in the bread pantry

I spotted the rusty knives, and smashed plates
the walls were filled with fungus and mold
the roof was the leaking and the doors
were torn off their hinges....
the garbage bags were ripped apart
rotten apple cores, half-eaten oranges
1/3 of a whole pizza and a rusty razor blade
laid bare...

I went upstairs,
they creaked and any second they were about to cave in

on the first door to the right was his room
spiderwebs cuddled with the doorknob
once inside, all I saw was stacked up **** magazines
dried up tissue, and a static TV.....
the pictures were smashed and there was hole in the wall
*******, rusty needles and ****** filled his dresser

I walked out and went to the second on my left
there was the attic.... filled with yearbooks,
degrees, pictures, just so many memories left untouched...

I walked to the last door on my right
that was his bathroom...
I open the door, the first thing I noticed...

it was Frank's body hanging from the rafters
he was wearing a white wedding dress
with makeup smeared all over his face
roaches ate his eyes and his arms
were coated with dry blood...
the toilet was filled with feces
the shower curtains were ripped
and the sink ran brown water
there was no note.....
but the body spoke for itself...

A collapsed lung.....
wires and cotton thread sheets
caress naked flesh....
Hands fragile and frail
blood trickles down the lip...
a half eaten fruit cup sits by the bedside,
and a malnourished body slowly rots....


2.
Flowing black hair swaying in the open breeze
tall and slender, body engulfed in a sea of red silk.....
Eyes beaming turquoise and sapphire
face, smooth to the touch
hands, nimble and delicate....


3.

A lump on the breast
shivers, chills, and shakes
yellow phlegm, projected from the throat....
Sedation..... prescription pills, and fatigue
a touch of pneumonia.....


4.

Air, slithering into a closing throat
flickering eyes, parched lips,
and a dry tongue...
frigid steel, pressing against tender flesh
stitches and staples,
breast and body.... separated...


5.

***** on the sheets, blood on the pillow
brain, comatose and body, numb
silence......
spirit and body.... separated....

To make a women quiver and shake
by only using the power of one's tongue
is quite an amazing feat....

I

There was a whiskey bottle
sitting on the back corner
of the living room
it laid shattered and broken...

empty ****** wrappers
and ***** stains sat on the couches
while the floor reeked of ******
and the walls were plastered with *****

A shattered picture frame
lying in the middle of the floor
with a single drip of blood....

I made my way towards the kitchen....


II

Flies sat on moldy bread
while sour milk sat with mushy cereal
the meat laid in the sink...
the only thing you could see was blood

The refrigerator was empty....
a silver spoon sat on the stove
rat poison was in the pantry
next to a broken syringe

Rats scurried in the garbage
the bowls were filled with dead roaches
the doors was torn off its hinges

I made my way towards the bathroom....


III

The sink ran brown water
rusted razor blades with dry blood
the mirror was shattered
broken toothbrushes laid in the background

Feces smeared on the flood
the toilet was broken in two
the bathtub with its lonely drip
a broken water main

The walls weakened by punches
smashed by hammers
and mixed with mildew

I made my way towards the bedroom....


IV

Two corpses lying side by side
one with her throat slit
the other with a bullet through his head
the hands touching gingerly

White powder on the dresser
clothes scattered and set on fire
a bible by the bedside
and a rope hung from the rafters

The mirrors were smashed
black smog filled the air
a chair in the middle of the room

We all were dead.....

We do not walk away from the echo's of combat
in fact, we embrace it....
the shadows of death haunt us
but we like to believe that we haunt the shadows