Where Winged Things Beat

His growing instability…

his loss of worth he finds no joy in living

we watched while the world consumed him

 

Here, we live in the meadow

here we live in the sun

here we live where winged things beat

here with the lion and the lamb

here we live in the wind

 

But there…

there in the shade

where no wind blows

his growing instability

there among the briar and brush

his loss of worth

his mind

the branch bare leaves stripped

his guts the tangled star thistle

we watched

we watched while the world consumed him

 

There is no fear in the sun

where winged things beat

with the lamb and the lion

there is no uncertainty in the meadow

the wind always blows

from the north

 

But there…

there in the shade and stone

where no wings beat

where the path runs at a different angle

the dirt exposed and black

the clutch of root and the crawl of insect

there are predators, lean

there are claws and teeth and sting and eat

there is only darkness

only shade

and his growing instability

 

Our tongues bound we did nothing

our fingers tapping our mouths grimace

we

did

nothing

our eyes wide f*****g open

staring like a corpse, wilted

we

did

nothing

feet of stone and coffin hands

television static and gasoline tears

we

did

nothing…

 

Someone goddamn

someone good lord

someone goddamn

someone else

should have done something

 

we watched while the world consumed him