unwrapping the shadow boxing

it seems like unreason
some buckled treason
that hangs in the chest
moving like a liquid shape
unfolding itself
and closing the fist

what do we hold
but an imagined fullness
that is an emptiness?

who wants to be a burning flag?
who wants to be a hashtag?
these poems of the temporary world
the despair we feel as we regard
Ozymandias broken and scarred
trying to look proud
these things we will not say out loud

we are fighting against the shadows of ourselves
cast in the foundry of our own lit hearts
throwing punches
into the drunkenness where we are blind to our reflections

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sinking stones in venice

dipping dry sticks in milk
there will be no fire starting
we rub these broken limbs together
hopeful grasshopper

we try to break others down
besmirch the architecture
say: these are not bricks
this is not a building

but the breath is curtailed
standing in the lobby
judging the whole blueprint
ants decrying the implacable wall

penitent pennant

i have a tongue that revolts
beds into silence and steeps
above a heart that succeeds

but there is a penitent pennant
fluttering like a guttering shadow
pinned to a waning waxy pinnacle

i know something is skewered in me
skewed by an approaching timidity
fear given another name and dressed in petals

the deadly nightshade
believes itself a rose
dark orbs staring

this is a foreign country
and i speak a different language
though it echoes and can be mistaken for

do you worry?
do you hurry?
do you tarry?

do you wonder where your steps falter?
this spiraling stairwell
at the halfway mark

it flags
the pole, the spine
and i say nothing