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