"flus" poems
In memoriam Asher and Franklin
Farmers flocked to Blossburg's mines
willing their abandoned plows
to perpetual dust and rain.
Burrowing into the Tioga hills
with Keagle picks and sledges,
they filled their trams with rough cut coal.
Black diamonds - carved for waiting boilers
of New England mills and trains
and Pennsylvania's winter stoves.
Brothers, Frank and Asher swung their picks
in tunnels deep beneath the hills
and brushed away the clouds of soot.
Their coughs at first seemed harmless
enough as from nagging colds or flus -
but deepened as their lungs turned black.
Pain and choking drove them to their beds
where no medic's art could aid them.
Then the coroner came to seal their eyes.
A stonecutter's chisel marks their brevity
on an marble graveyard obelisk
that pays no homage to their sacrifice.
September, 2007
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 3:57 PM UTC
In between the crevasse, the edges of two fingers,
Two boldly jutting stingers perpendicularly putting
A slick gripping upon a slim tantalum cigarette,
A discreet bayonette from weapons that should have kept
Their secrets, saved their wars, retained their scores
To themselves, mourned in their shells, sat in the corners of their skin and bone cells,
Weeping through fingernails.
The acid cannot wave between the lips,
Absorbed, contained inside their grips,
Decidedly encased inside like bottled ships
That cannot sail from inside a deafly, deathly speaking slip.
Those circled, muscled sinking feelings
Driven cold by air, the scarab dealings
Flying flus, thus rabid reelings,
Blades cantankerous on wings revealing.
Bottled, at stop, on gums that go.
Bottled razorlings, at stop, on gums that go.
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 4:56 PM UTC
Rewrite your rare , this language is on a plain level.
It looks at you
it talks to you
it even stalks you as if you were food
the protection is rude
These lyrics hate you because It can make you,
but you,
won't allow you to take you,
Me? I've adapted to different altitudes immune to the colds and the flus.
So what happened to you?
I became the Narrator, toy maker, deep breaths of **** vapor apple cider vinegar made me thinner,
No... i don't care to stay for dinner
all is not familiar.
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 10:35 PM UTC