Broken Records

Silence Screams.

Dropped my bag in the parking lot
Laid on my left side,
Arms open, cheeks caked with gravel,
Palms drenched, a crimson
So sticky sweet,
Entranced by rubber tubes and
Stale golden orbs in the ink.

Fate, a wretched sage
With a beard made entirely of
Leather, rubber and glass
Crumpled you up into a paper ball
Within seconds,
While I,
I could remain here on the pavement
For weeks and live to see
A lifetime
Fall through the cracks.

I’ve been screaming your name
For well over four weeks now.
I’m beginning to think
You can’t even hear me.
So why desert these car tires,
The blood and the asphalt?

Switch fire mother desert bring me into eclipse
Take my desires and wishes
Send them through a grinder
Blaze the dust through a crack pipe
Walk me into your garden
Let me drink from your fountain
Eat your fruits
Tell me a story
Write words on my forehead
Outline them with macaroni noodles
And cigarettes.

Statues will quiver in my wake.
I am an ended journey,
A grenade dud,
An obsidian snowball,
Helter-skelter terracotta music box.
I breathe whispers.
I've tasted hurricanes,
But I feed on broken records.


Break it, mol-. Break it, mol-.
Break it, mol-. Break it, mol-

I’ll just admire the tin bastions
And how they ignore one another
On the bus.

I think I’ll take in the scenery
Just a little longer.