protect your wearing edges
battalions of weathered worn ancients
spines lifting and frayed
dust deep and golden leaved
fragile
dead to all intentions
and purposeless
crushed
corridors and cupboards
vanilla stink
mass graves and rescued cardboard coffins
this is where it ends
you have been fingered and
eaten
inhaled and
adored
if you were lucky
perhaps you were only
a prestigious decoration
but be thankful
that you weren't consumed
then
regurgitated
twisted and false
from an attorney generals
office
or some similar brainless backwater
be pleased
i hope
that you give
more pleasure
to a time rich toddler
making shaky steps and
gifting life
where her hand falls
i hope
that you are loved
but
i can't lie
i don't think we need your armies
the war is fought now on glowing pale quads
through wire and telephonic exchange
though even those weapons are creaking and old
our armies are of light and
they stink of angels
you are fashioned of old dead wood
too too mortal
Poet Douglas Kearney and composer/producer/drummer Val Jeanty link up for a a compelling LP that feels like the written word come to life. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 30, 2021