CHANT IF YOU'RE VOICELESS.


Dust,

If you swallow it
Marinate your bicuspids in grating silica grit
Sand your molars in desert waste
And chalk your canines in alluvium clay

Dust;

You’re sure to tongue it
Roll that slab of meat over the course grain
Until it is dry, and dehydrated it cracks
Until exsiccated, it dies

The censor does this with his eyes,
And that voice which you cast your debates
Your arguments,
Your dissertations,
Your jokes,
Your witty social parlor gabs
Will whither disassembly left and right
Content death and meaning
Wit and Light die in that tomb together
Mummified, stratified, buried together

Dust:

Have you ever heard a thunderbolt voice your name?

Give me two shakes on the lightning coil
Down in Earth where it she rumbles
Twin machines both steel and steal
Stars who burn in perpetual dark
Worshipers on the lightning coil

And what thunder voices your name?
A goon, a goblin, or is it all the same?
Passages framed with candescence
Creeping slaves on weeping fire
Worshipers with the lightning coil

Twenty fractals fracturing skin
Broken limbs tumbling lime
Gears that creak and spin out bile
Snapping ropes; electric spires
Worshipers at the lightning coil

Give us this our shaking deaths
And forget us we trespassers,
As we trespass amongst you,
Lead us to incineration,
and deliver us cancellations
For thine is thy checkbook,
And ours our wheedling nannies.
Worshipers pray the lightning coil

Poison struck across the sky
Giddy children find a liar
Stars that sing in agonized luster
Unable to break their atomic calenture
Worshipers on the lightning coil

Yes, the thunder speaks their name
Yes, it is all deep oblivion
Yes, it all ends the same
Moths can’t escape from their coruscation
Flames of ancient, incandescent scintillation

Nor can I
Nor can you
Worshipers of the lighting coil

Hollyhocks and Hibiscus,
Who can tell the difference?
Mulch under our treads,
Diesel up above
And dirt and dust Below

Waiting for a miracle

Waiting for rain:

Soft whispering on today
It is strange, it’s not right
Hear the echo, hear it again
Soft in the daylight

In the lexiconical dirge
Where our voices aren’t heard
Hear the echo, hear it again
Do you have any words?

Prayers do nothing, our voice is out
Scattered relics hum near
Hear the echo, hear it again
Laughter predates the fear

Hear the echo, hear it gain
Let’s hope it wasn’t in vain

Dust.


Thanks to etouffee for the challange.