Let’s do some more walls.
7 days, 7 shades darker at The School of Arts and Enterprise in Pomona.
There’s a place in my hollow heart, an empty chest filled with hazy memories and endless nostalgia. I am sure the emotions would have cleared out the cobwebs that have nestled within its cracks, but there are none, for my mind fails me. It’s impossible to have clear recollections of those wandering days. I am older now.
Yet, as humans, we continue to grasp at time’s transience. Like a banished princess in a fairy tale, perhaps I will awake from this awful dream, and remember who I once was - a beautiful, 30 foot tall monster from the Paleolithic era.
"Let me tell you, son:
The sirens that speak to you from
the Western front fear
these handfuls of dirt.”
We’ve come to expect
dry evenings now,
trees casting empty shadows
on cracked ground.
Thirst still has no meaning -
She carries signs on her back
A blank lady of situations.
In the trials of hungry slaves and
gregarious businessmen lies a path
where the misunderstood still walk.
And there, your hair is still wet.