escher poetry — [B]

it’s as though two trains ran through
in discordant sound / one a screeching
blackboard one a screeching bird /
these hard imagined fears were sharply pared
arthritis / the weather lightning stabbing
as though through bone on bone

a crowd of sixty million who talk in syn
chronie / tell acrimony things i couldn’t
let me hear / four dead pets three cats a dog
said loud and strong the same / but i’ve
not heard nor understood that foul and
barking thing

for i won’t hear divorce and hate for deeds
i haven’t done / for i won’t hear condemn
detest on things that don’t exist / for i won’t
hear my love has dreamt a hell and blamed
me for those dreams / for i’ve not met my love
for twenty years of peace

when mediamen make on line a psychopath
a mare / a cowering egg with arms on head
to shiver from the world / i did not think
it could be real but now that is my love

now that is my love

This poem was published in The Journal #52.