In the Death Republic


The half of a half beat before or after, the rest
and the slide up and down the scale. The doubling

back to recover, except for the unrecoverable.
A madman who's president wants the sentence

revoked, the ransacker turned out of his cell
and back into the fold. Whose ghosts roam

the fields, their hands outstretched? A girl's
gold limbs that wintered in an abandoned van;

lamp or lyre, a child's body strung over
a cesspool. Aphids turn trees into factories

of sugar before they damage and die. Mark my words:
that is to say, the blister that replaces bliss.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.