We Made It True


We made it true! – like Nezach:

You could make it green, Venusian,

With tapestries of silken cloth

And flowers in profusion.

We made it true, but our truth

Is coffins and the tomb,

The skull and worm that follow me,

The concrete mortuary room.

Now that we’ve made the charnel real

It’s time for us to part;

But now we cling like poisoned ivy,

Freedom cries, “You wouldn’t try me.”

I sink through blackened sludge and slime

Fall to depths I never guessed at.

Cannot reach the light from here-

Sacrificed for trash I’m best at.



Spirit Birds

Looking after spirit birds is now my full-time job.

A chance to show I care for birds

Who fell out of their nest in spring,

And birds that spent their life in cages

pecking what they’re given,

And birds spat out by hunting cats,

and birds that float on top of ponds,

Birds alive a minute ago

And baby birds with open mouths

That starve so easily.