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 Jul 2023 Sean Fitzpatrick
L B
“Indian burn?
Let me show ya”
He
assaulted my arm, my mind
at once

Cannot protest
or change the scream

of blinding stairwell-

Double-cross

Descent 
of knowing

I will avenge 

will take revenge

at my first… 

blinded spurt of rage
Rebirth as renegade



No age

ever!
forgets!
 Jul 2023 Sean Fitzpatrick
L B
Smokey the Bear tried
to warn us
not to play with fire
nor matches
Never any carelessness
so near the flames
A Bunsen's burner
licks the glass
cesium
rubidium

I listened
till the dare
undid the bear
Consumed us
with its hunger
for the science
and the gases
instability
of it

Flicked us out the window
of a sunny day
Cricket dry
the grass
Knee deep in *** butts
in litter
by the underpass

Flames trespass
explode beyond us
After wind-driven flames ripped through Colarado

The scientist for whom the Bunsen burner was named also discovered the volatile elements cesium and rubidium.
 Jul 2023 Sean Fitzpatrick
L B
You might be surprised by what people read
at the kitchen table
in the evening
with dinner to the side

As for where to die?  
At the kitchen table
like my neighbor Betty—

slumped over her newspaper
arms above her white and lonely head.
 Jul 2023 Sean Fitzpatrick
L B
Halloween at Camp LeJuene

So those storage tanks
the ads of late-night-- all talkin' about
some thirty-five years a-leaking like...
some aplastic benzene-apocryphal river

Horror!
tastes like chemo Kool Aide
forever in the mouth
washing over parade route
seeping into boots and wombs
of cadets who can't hear the music
over a child's laughter-- ever

over failing livers
lined up like lawyers marching
onto glyphosate green
to Parkinsonian cheers
to Taps-solos echoeimg off the stone-
of mind and memory

Flags!
Flapping-angry!

“No (wo)man left behind
on the multiple ways to myeloma
Miscarriages
of justice!

A silence waiting

an eternity
of tiny infant cries
emptying....
into Love Canal

There will be...
NO JUSTICE!

Only billions set aside
for funeral-ic devastation

“Significant compensation”
--being read in a woman's face
in a woman's voice

“...suffering from any of these....
after drinking the water at Camp Le Juene”

at the hands-down
heads-turned
greased palms of

     silence

being owned
by military-corpporate
“channels”
of secrecy

...of Pharma-to-government
medical-backwaters
laundered to-governments
of banana republics

Mercenery chemicals
Medicine with missile launchers
strewn
among military over-runs of...
…of high power rifles,
night goggles, and F-15s

What am I missing here?

...about the rubbery clots and myocarditis?
Has it finally come round to us?

How could I not see!

not recall?
How many years ago--
since I could hear?

the rapid fire!
“The toxic Leaks!”

“...suffered from any of these...”
...feeding tube terrors
Time's tumors
downgrade to errors
deferred...
Now beside the grief as amputees
--take the field of parade
While Misplaced Rage
pages through abortions of blame
in the chemical caldron
where they ****, shower, and shave

...then towel-dry their babies

or not....

Where are the rapid-fire rats and bats
when we need 'em?

Semper Fi!
 Jul 2023 Sean Fitzpatrick
jǫrð
The folds in your boots
Ain't clean enough
I'd be hands and knees at peace

There.
The History: Christ
 Jul 2023 Sean Fitzpatrick
jǫrð
I'd recorded all
My old words, I left unsaid
On to something new
The History: Old words above, written some time ago, in reference to the old words I'd left unpublished, then published at once. "A never ending chain of Mailmen"
 Jul 2023 Sean Fitzpatrick
jǫrð
Is that bark
Still recovering

From a half
Decade's winter ago

When I hiked
To your barren lumber shed

And skinned that
Neighboring tree

For something dry
To turn to flame
The History: I loved a man in the Kentucky winter. That winter he left me alone for days. No food, a floridian in a mountain shack, with a wood burning stove and no kindling. I found myself in 10°, short shorts, with an open wound the size of a football between my *** cheeks, in calf high snow, stripping the bark from the trees for something to create warmth.
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