East Of The Wall Salieri
I’d promised to go, but now that it’s time, the scene
of what I’d missed is haunting me through tattered
blinds.
“Lift your eyes from above. Let your life flow out.”
Born from resistance, and plagued by irreverence, the
burden of a slow memory’s remnants. Awaken in moments
and search for the relevance. The instance fades and
leaves me no change.
It wouldn’t seem like such a blow if only minds could
be renewed as well as bone, if only years could all be
hewn as well as stone.
A burst of color and dismay rends a draped malaise
which, maligned as it may, still offers up a sanctum’s
peace. A cloven hoof crawls for the hobbled. The forked
tongue croaks the call of the dumb.
What passes over when heads are steeped, neck deep, in
the drolls cast off by the shrugging arms, the wading
mass, the sludge so thick all limbs are lamed? Still we
waddle all the same. Cast off all my weight.
“So cast your light away. They’ll shine your light
out.”
This bleeding erupted from the sores of wasted gods.
The tension was broken by bloodied fists and open arms.
The meaning destructed in solitude and fits of calm.
Residing in daydreams, you’ll only feel it once it’s
gone.
One day, and one chance to fail one day. You’ll never
screw this again, so take it all the way and dig
through your grave.
