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