Samsara



Senator Sky,

A letter arrives, informing you that there is hurt.

Trembling through the mail systems, arrives

a tear-stained letterized cry.

Dabbed with blood, insurance that it’s real.

Petitioning your career to, for your soul,

stop.



The taxi’s windshield is pelted by sleet.

but dinner is still boiled lobster.

Marble pillars stand, silently erect,

seeing all.

Hear

and feel

the wavelength of fear;

Rape.

Blood.



A trumpet blows, horn sings of glory,

and the civil war vets stand

celebrating world-war-ones-to-come,

decorated in full attire and staring into the sky,

a blue and silent and empty sky,

interrupted by a flag

that stands for power.

Rape.