morning breaks like a crack shot through bone
the needs are frightening that i must possess
this hunger in my womb
head out to trenches
crawling on concrete blood
tanks and diesel
mortars and pestle
clouds of promise
blind my way
the kings in control
but the ghosts
are there
and their
and they’re
in hoods of faith
to cut the cord
steal down the path of deaths holy trail
hide from satin's cape in tombs with idols they set ablaze
craters of remains hold pieces of flesh and baby’s breath
wretched with veil wrapped tight to skirmish no eyes
reaching sanctuary for my supply
around and around
to face it again
and again
and
again
past bloody sheets
car parts for limbs
sparkplug fingers
transmission torsos
naked in hells kitchen
i die for
daily bread
today life goes
and goes
not
within me
and
without me
down a
baghdad
death
row
Categories:
sparkplug, courage, death, war,
Form: Free verse