A revelation under the neon light of the "thing"

bleh.

Tepid veins froth, blood boiling
over, my channels collapse silently.
A million eyes, entranced
by the warm frost of a downy television screen
watched Hiroshima's skirt fly open, undone
the peachy flesh of innocence
seared to medium rare, bleeding on the inside
with the toothpick-flag announcing
sustenance.

Everyone is starving, too polite to interrupt
we gorge on things and embrace
the wasteland of our
innards.

Sometimes, I wander
city streets dreaming of ambiguity,
like Cleopatra clutching Antony, the shame
follows me like a balloon, tethered
to my wrist, inquiring of my innocence
and the slight tug of resistance
reminds me
she is there, the screaming orb
in techno-color.

So we move, in tandem
through the days, humanity's rainbow
of plastic love, bounding from the sun
like a prism.

I can't find the language, the rosetta stoned love
to translate the way humanity
disappoints me, the clay woman
built of earth, becomes ashes...

there is no phoenix anymore.

Reviews

[Namuh Niffa]

thats kinda raw jo.
aint no more phoenix. that s**t hit at the end.
rawness.

[Maya]

amazing amazing amazing. the picture is beautiful as well. eloquent yet harsh. very impressive, im jealous. haha. keep it up!