Hundreds of
Shoes
Smacking
The
Concrete
Floor
Like bombs
Crimson tears splatter
Staining the
Rocks
Sleet colors of
Black fleeing from planes.
When are we to know
How to revive a world
Through milk and honey, when it is that
Which is killing the bees and the veal?
But those shoes
Know-
All those pairs can hear.
They see what falls down.
They go where the
Soot and acid goes.
They hear the
Snarls of the ground
Reaching up,
Thirsting for soot and acid,
And searching for the red shoes.
YOU ARE READING
Stream of Consciousness
PoetryCome join us you emancipators from reality, You who wouldn't die for anything in this world, Though we are no more than martyrs. We'll never care for you, but you'll gain so much. We all have something worth hearing, and We all have something to le...