Is truth now a muddy thing?
Is that how we prefer it to be?
Is truth a muddy clay
ready to be shaped ‘til it pleases me?

Is truth now a muddy thing
thick and deep, hiding what's beneath?
Designed to hide my face
as I seek a private relief?

Is truth now a muddy thing,
wet, heavy, gritty and cold?
Can I scrap it off my boot,
leave it outside my safe threshold?

Is truth now a muddy thing,
slowing me wading ashore?
Immune to curses and stumbles,
dragging me to the floor?

If truth is now a muddy thing
can I filter it and sieve?
Is there pure clear truth that's not been eroded?
Will I still find true truth within?

limbs that sweat in plastic
doctor's bin-bag clothes
hospitals like landfills
landslide horror wards
clap like it's been scripted
casualty- stream live
sunlight voids the distance
summer pressure- vibe
queen is on TV
joke is on the screen
everyone's outside
looking for a sign
bathing in the light
bouncing off the streets
who cares about the queen?

the mouthOFnoise eats the silence;
everywhere NOise!)turns my insides(
out/-of Tears i said to the mother
holding empty children's shoes

EyesofSorrow drowns her sight:
only to eternally see all horror
with sightless eyes that diligently
cry-/i once had a great Love that died

                      the Ghosts of
Antikythera's Cell Machines burn
the sharp edge of decaying reality;laboriously
the longest Legs of Time march forth as it
steps over my shortest Thoughts within the
MOUTH)of(NOISE

:: 03.26.2020 ::