Witness on a caved-in roof

The rooting mange of skulled dogs
travels somewhere here
in a rutted city itself of ruin.
A parade of strange sights herein:
men legless who crawl to their meals
which themselves still crawl
in dusty air whom none may safely breathe.
Yonder yet a burnished ship
of oak and some ancient metal
for which repairs the tools are long gone
into whatever awaits the waiting many.
If they can be called men
then men wicked as sin itself
carve up their brides from treestumps
& love them roughly until one guest
lost on his journey would consider
where went all the red-jawed birds
who beat into wood their tireless legacy
of brutal damnation none to remember.
Crawling from the earth such beasts
who once could speak but now cannot
kill each other in the frenzied dawn
under which flee geckos and skinks
as echoes of what men used to think
would come to be if their gods were abused.


Replace “breathe” with “inhale.” Reconsider title. Mention “galleon.” “The pale slaves not yet exhumed by daylight inside” when speaking of the ship. Replace “went” with “fled.” Replace “rooting” with either “rotting” or “rusting.”


~ by Jeremy on June 2, 2010.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: