This Deliberate March

In the morrow between night and dark,

were three figures born apart.

On scattered earth, they split apart,

Saw tongues of gravel, dodged sheets of rock.

There, I sat between such sparks,

The railroad tracks, drift into the mud.

In vibrating flesh, these figures depart.

My air hangs loose beneath my breath,

Stafford’s memory on the road ahead,

I am alone with my machine, my death.

Cross town, heard they flanked the few,

weapons drew, their faith renewed,

Threats and masks, space torn apart, “we

have not traveled, we will not stop.”

That littered earth, that shadows beat,

The quitting feeling of the place we cannot see.

I hear the pulse rotting at my teeth,

In leaps and bounds and crawling stars,

They laid apples before our eyes

And moved like shards, a world apart.

With my weave tangled, this world spit aloft,

And we have marveled at the dark,

The street lights, sputter, the engine

ceases to rust, and what I gathered,

I will try, I must.

I run, I ran,

I only want what there is not

The figures they are lost now,

With the clocks.

All for nothing,

this deliberate March.

All for nothing,

this deliberate March.

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One thought on “This Deliberate March

  1. Brian King

    i had trouble following the story, but i like that.
    i like that you changed tenses a couple times to create a temporal confusion in the piece, that’s pretty rad
    towards the beginning and middle it felt a bit too wordy

    you said that you had said that you wouldn’t write during school, well i don’t know about you, but i’m compelled to write all the time, it isn’t a choice, it just keeps the demons at bay. (metaphorically of course) Maybe we could run into each other again sometime soon, i’ve got some material that needs to be looked over, nobody with any experience has looked at my stuff recently and i fear it may be going too far out there or something like that. Alright, well i hope that my opinion was helpful, see you around campus.

    Reply

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