To speak with words chosen in silence:
the sky is bleeding
but who did the cutting?
We've been out here for too long
no one left with any sense to read the signs
but for that there's no shortage of opinions
& all this chatter never ends
Meanwhile the sky is heaving like a bitch in heat
the shrines stand deserted & the people are tired
tired in a way that weighs the bones down from inside
like lead in the marrow
they'd kill themselves if their hands could still tie rope
Coming round the slope with a wheelbarrow in tow
what are you going to carry if you've nothing sacred left to bear?
A lone voice commands: give them stones
Start blunt
Start somewhere