SCREAM WITH ME

[NICOTINEGUN]

Do you scream and are you heard from beyond that dry river bed you once swam in and do those faces surround you in sharp mist and ugly black spaces?

Do you know what lies beyond the curtain and it's velvet waves? Have you seen those fields and oceans and do you know why Eden was bliss?

Is there anyone out there who has taken the spoon from the hand that feeds, thrown it to the floor, spit out the unchewed feed, and eaten with your own hands?

Where are the golden children that Uncle Jim promised us when he poisoned pages with India ink and spoke with that rust colored breath and tongue, broken dagger teeth?

I remember rumbling through the town in that old blue truck,
Autumn leaves spitting up from tires like dead, soggy fire.

the back seat filled with beer, crushed cans, empty cans of Skoal..

A big game that night, we lost and celebrated youth from house to house

from beauty to beauty, queen to queen

India ink by candlelight, deep into the hours of the night,

creating drama for my god.

Where have I ended that my rivers are so dry and bare of ink and rain?

This place is bone, crevassed with empty places,

My mood is skeleton.

If you're going to scream,

scream with me.