State of the Union

by James Piehl

Time exacts its wicked toll
Day fresh on the lillies

Night like the whisper
of starlight that surrounds us
empty and alone

Just off the edge of everything
is another harsh reality
biting into fresh wounds
Romantically inclined to stay in step
all the way to Heavens door
Stars falling all around us
shocked mute by that knowledge

Reach through the light
clawing your way to the comfort
and stillness of night
when everything seems less lost
for the moment and you can cry
your eyes out with feeling

Sex is a tragedy
like suicide
and she is far less demanding

Do not forget the blossoms
ebbing and flowing
with the passing minutes
because what dies today
is born again in Spring
drug addicted and wretching
from the heat

With SIDS wrapping its withered hand
around the cradle
and Aids claiming our future
fresh from the womb
there is a contact high
we cannot control
riding on the tradewinds

Spying on us like Mexico
sneaking across the border
through the barbed thickets,
Through the nests of rattlesnakes
crawling into our wallets

I offer no recourse
I am just an anemic hemophilliac
writing blood oaths on canvas
until I die

No fight I can interject myself into

I do not hate all the critical eyes
I hate bloodlust and hold contempt
for adulterous stonings

I have been told God loves me
and I love the freedom
but all I have left is hope
that I am right

And the sign reads
Welcome to Charlton
made in China
which makes me feel
like I lost my children
in a poker match
so I only buy fine
Slovenian manufacturing

And time exacts
its wicked toll

James Piehl's picture

James is a poet from Massachusetts. He has a journalism degree from UMass Amherst with a concentration in english. He has been writing since his junior year of high school and thoroughly loves poetry.

Last updated September 27, 2011