headlines and headcount

like a nervous stomach ache and a fat lip

 

tortured flesh hangs a disfigured lipstick smile in futile protest

 

muted screams and blood-gurgles unheard

on the shattered blue U shaped phone who taunts,

“if you like to make a call, hang up and try again”

 

somewhere in the sudden crimson nightfall,

a crisp light appears,

but it looks more like raging fire

than welcoming warmth

 

violent conversation wheezes to imposing silence

and teary brown eyes glitter of safety’s sweet memory

 

desperate stares like batted eyelash touches drum cheeks

as air turns to gravel;

unperceived gestures with the force of disastrous slaughter

 

two jagged souls clang together in wicked sickness,

both clustered; both alone

 

one shivers limply like a bloody rag on the fence,

as the other rings the last drop of moisture

from the skinned red core of its beloved prey

 

*

buzzards parade in clouds of blue-red shimmer

and dance their awkward dance on hot black tar

 

picking slowly at the featherless turkey

on the dusty morning sidewalk

while the pink-toothed fox runs whimpering

through the brambles with its miserable life-lust

sliding away like a busy afternoon

 

*

love is broken, sanity strangles

and passion runs into a rusty sewer grate . . .

just instincts now,

and even they call for an unceremonious self-execution

 

an echoed shot rings through the orange hills;

a demon exorcised

and time doesn’t even hiccup, angels don’t cry

nothing has changed but the headlines and headcount