Sam Silva

Muses of Infinity

Computer classical music radio
plays a strange song
on a dim cloudy night
but burning within
with a flickering light
...in a gentle cold, like snow.

Rachel paints these things as well
...the shuffled grays!
...the obtuse days!
...the medicated hell
where souls go stumbling off
all doped with prayers and pills
...go stumbling off in dullard praise to God
...the same God they might nail and kill
in less identifiable ways.

The music cries a Christmas tear.
I see my lovers painting on the wall
a little more inclined to look through and beyond
what is an endless twilight edge
...toward morning and the dawn!

The Litter of the Abandoned

A sick and terrible life!
Feral and sick
...torn at the ears
and eaten by viruses.

These cats and children
camped out in the suburbs
and slogging the day
in ferocious sunlight
...temporary
path to the cites
...autumn sunlight
turning to winter
...eyes grown ancient
before their time.

Oh hiss in the dark when nighttime comes.
Oh love of the lovers
grown pregnant with death.

Sam Silva © 2012