Wednesday, October 25, 2006

step up efforts to control the killing

She was very thirsty. Most of her body’s blood had spilled onto the concrete.

From the hole in her side.
From the placed it had pried.
Away the taught youthful skin.
And busted her bones in two.
Her liver disinterred.
Grated on impact and leaked all its juices in blue.
And gray and red and green it ran out of her body to sidewalk and through.

It a man walked, shaken confused, he’s lost all his mind, forgotten of time, he limps.

Like hot red shrapnel had pierced his thigh which it had he cried out loud:

“Why, oh why, must this girl die a painful death on the street?”

“Mothers and fathers and friends are dead.”

“I’ll probably die soon too.”

”So fuck the world and fuck the bombs and fuck the riflemen there.”

“Fuck you! I said, listen to me, fuck everything that's true.”


Pell said...

I like your poetic experimentation, but your narrative writing is too good to abandon for this long. This poem has a cool theme, but the punctuation and a couple of word selections make it a little herky jerky. Give us a story about anything. The crowd will respond.

Matthew D Dunn said...

It was supposed to be herky jerky dude.