Kindle For the Book-Burning

At the Kingston Station,
we stood on the edge of the platform
the rain beating racist
(black)
against our raincoats.

Father turned to me and said:

“Is there anything that offends you?”

I stood there and thought about all the children
men have sodomized,
their mothers who we freely allow to be killed,
the bombs and silos part of the
collective subconscious...

And I looked over at my father,
and I saw the reflection of the train coming at us in his eyes:

“No,” I whispered,
“only that we all must die.”

Washington D.C on a Friday night

I was hoping you
would know better,

but you acted
like an animal,

eating two fifty-ounce
steaks and then dessert,

and when we found
you your name was

already missing
from the credits,

well we watched
as you trounced

through the neighbor's
garden like a tiger,

you got drunk and
raped that girl,

you were cursing and swearing
about how great you were,

and then you
pulled out your gun?

what could anyone
say to you?

 

Sonics

You used to sneak into the funeral home
and lie in the green colored casket.

It matches her blond hair,
I thought (until I saw you in it for real).

I hyper-ventilated as I stood in front of your hollow,
dead body.

As I leaned forward to touch your mouth
there was a quiver, and you said:

“Do I look beautiful?”

[END]

© 2004 Jéanpaul Ferro - Contributor's Bio