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