Barbed Laughter
Barbed laughter from a night
of bitter parades:
the holy left hanging held in no palms,
genuflections to thorned spittled hearts.
You heard the tears
as they rolled
down my cheek,
jaundice and frantic.
***
In what nightmare will you sleep next
turning children’s eyes into cringing stones,
their tongues into lonely red carpets?
I asked you to pour your pleadings on the wind
and scatter their rusty tears up to the sun–
light of future cold
and will-less destruction.
***
You stood over
the stillpain on the altar–cries long lost,
forgotten curled fingers–
and caressed the smiles of lies,
stroked the silky manes of illusion.
There was a fire there
that had never breathed or eaten.
Its orange lips cracked, the valleys
holding pails of dizzy dying lovers.
And you kept singing:
Until the end of time,
Blood, forgiveness, and laughter
Will be mine.
Barbed laughter from a night
of bitter parades:
the holy left hanging held in no palms,
genuflections to thorned spittled hearts.
You heard the tears
as they rolled
down my cheek,
jaundice and frantic.
***
In what nightmare will you sleep next
turning children’s eyes into cringing stones,
their tongues into lonely red carpets?
I asked you to pour your pleadings on the wind
and scatter their rusty tears up to the sun–
light of future cold
and will-less destruction.
***
You stood over
the stillpain on the altar–cries long lost,
forgotten curled fingers–
and caressed the smiles of lies,
stroked the silky manes of illusion.
There was a fire there
that had never breathed or eaten.
Its orange lips cracked, the valleys
holding pails of dizzy dying lovers.
And you kept singing:
Until the end of time,
Blood, forgiveness, and laughter
Will be mine.
David Calogero Centorbi is writing and working in Detroit, MI. He is the author of Landscapes of You and Me,
(AlienBuddha press.) AFTER FALLING INTO DISARRAY (Daily Drunk Press) He can be found here on Twitter: @DavidCaCentorbi. Blog: davidcentorbi.blogspot.com
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