Burial

Published December 13, 2013 by April Fox

I’ve held in my hands
a thousand pretty deities
and all the ugly ones
Turned them over, inspected them
for authenticity
crushed their life out,
saved my breath
for my own resuscitation

Buried them
under mounds of ash
from old deposit slips
and torn-off clothing
(the buttons, when they burn
are worn out tires)
and letters written late at night
to no one in particular
ribbons from cassette tapes melt
and scar their holy corpses

There is nothing in their flesh
that makes them real

There is no kind of belief
can make them whole.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

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

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )

w

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: