Sam Silva

The Illness

Sweetly sick
horns and violins
bleed to a crescendo

...that Mahler piece I saved
to the music box software
milks and bathes
contentment in my idiot mind

during the soft
lamplight of a computer midnight

till the soprano screams high pitched
the vocal part as climax.

And at least since our modern beginnings
of iron bread and steam

there has always been a time
among the neo nazis
who surround History's carriage

for one or another
collective mental illness
born of a decadent spirit

to burn alive with nothing
but the facts

of iron bread and money

and eat well
and drink well

and blow the world apart
in the cup of such fermentation.

Sam Silva © 2015