Anacreon’s Place

Feeling military stupidities
To the marrow

Tinsel martyrdoms
For medals or less

Empty spots of
Juice behind unseeing
Eyes

The desert eats you
That stole my heart
As it bleached
My ribcage in
The steady sun,

Maggots and
A coat of magenta
And teal

The mother lode split twice,
because the mountain
I was born on isn’t there
any more - the mining company
crumbled it down and
trucked it away. Ripped a desert
from rich soil, bird-song resounds
off the jumbled limestone.

I find the echo amusing.
But the empty just hurts.