Another Life(Poem)

It was the 13th resurrection on this mud
mailed just to replay old treasons
so that god might mock again
and angels might taunt again.

I recollect a billboard in heaven—
there are no things worth dying for
only things worth confessing for.

I was supposed to paint this radiant
canvas of nature
like a tattoo artist
my eyes dyed with pride
pillaged the brown heart
and yellow lungs of the earth
and the smell of success
blackened and browned by the
smudges of billowing passions
the integrity of my velvet heart
with so many wicked wounds.

—Drunken Flower.

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