This is the place
Where the end fell into itself
We were there as it looked back toward us
With our empty bells and our souls
Burning in the hills
We arrived in a boat made by a quivering child
Everything fallen out of our mirrors
As we taste the first days
And the last….
They sit where horsemen have passed
Moisture rising from
the hoof prints….
Owl dreams hovering above them….
on a rainy mountain road near grove Oklahoma
A dead black one lifted its glistening wing
As I passed…..
In a haunted mansion in France
I closed the bathroom mirror the limp wings
And vacant eyes behind me….
These are the ones that chose us….
And will sit with us
While only our shadows remain
and our bones have melted away….
Thursday July 16
“You are not a wolf
And this is the land of wolves now….”
Sicario the film 2015.
Long before winter these ones sent
Their tracks looking for you….
The black dog sits among you
Its crimson eyes turned toward you
They will ask you to come out
Whether by your stench of hatred or evil fear
They sit in the blackness where you sleep
They will rise as darkness to enshroud you
They know who you are…..
We are among you
Dog soldier poem for enemies.
Mahago domiutz tsistsistas