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A Firelight Mourning

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A Firelight Mourning

Poetry

Michael David Cobb Bowen
Jun 3, 2023
13
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A Firelight Mourning

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A firelight mourning
A ghastly echo awaits

In the Crumble's wake
frigid skeletons march
Their hardcore beats
disassemble all focus
in jarring ragged thunder

Metaphor's disappearance
no longer lamented
beyond reconciliation
abstraction all gone
we in present tense
witness the obvious.

Man's inhumanity
reckless
poignant pitiless 
naked 
shit smeared and vomiting

no movie it didn't happen
bounce the rubble
a lifetime of screaming
fragmented fate

I told you so.
I told you so.
I told you so.
I told you so.

All I had to do was die
When dying served no justice
When fear of dying had no might
I might have died inside in spite
And never tried to set things right

Instead I reasoned forward
Bearing bread and fruit
To feed a fatted calf a half of mind
My minded matters all in tatters
Now I have to laugh

Pregnant with my powerpoint. 
Posting petulant poetry.
Pissing peasants pitied me
and ate my dismal dinner, free
I called my shite discovery


100 years ago and two
atomics blasted then we knew
we maudlin keepers of the zoo
but partied until '42
Five years ago when fortune flew

We hid behind colors
We hid behind pronouns
flags algorithms decentralized currencies
electronic eyes dogs cows weather forecasts
self-righteous victimhood
theories conspiracies speculations 
rockets to mars electric cars
We hid.
That's all we did.

I shouldn't be acting this way on my birthday.
I shouldn't be causing my readers this pain.
I shouldn't be writing this way on my birthday.
I shouldn't be doing this shit with my brain.

It's a dream of 2047.  
I see myself under the bridge in shadow. 
Having wasted my life fighting death for shared meaning. 
Recalling the texts and emails from institutions
Back in the year of the Barbie Movie
When at least we tried
To lose ourselves
To find ourselves 
Back when we had the luxury of wall to wall bullshit.
 
I take a bite of barbecued kitten
off the wire hanger spit
and take a final swig of red bull
the fire dances dully in my cataracts
the thud of mortars intermit again 
tired of surviving this war
my hands tremble for the final time
I bring them to my lips
I bite the pill from the man in uniform
I descended into Hell
I ascended into Heaven 
I sat at the right hand of the Father.

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A Firelight Mourning

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