July 19, 2023Dust to Dust
Dust the tracks
that mouse or men discarded thoughtlessly
behind them, left that those of one
who cracks the code may hack some clue. A
shell’s tortoise shambles; a life’s conclusion
dithyrambles. “What is false is truth,” say
disembodied youth, death their honor forever,
breath their only sometimes companion. Their
ages many struggle to reconcile; some fear
the wages war offers come in coffins;
coffers more like. Anyone would ask
kings why it is greed bleeds bones
leeching for life on hands
feeding poppies, by sunlit
fields, killing. The
dawn crows at
cowards: lie
still
lie cowards.
At crow’s dawn
the killing fields,
sunlit by poppies, feeding,
hands on life, for leeching
bones bleeds greed. Is it why kings
ask, “Would anyone like more coffers?
Coffins?” In come offers. War wages the
fear some reconcile to struggle many ages,
their companion sometimes only their breath.
Forever honor their death. Youth disembodied
say “Truth is, false is what dithyrambles.”
Conclusion: life’s a shambles. Tortoise shell’s
a clue—some hack may code the cracks. Who?
One of those that left them behind
(thoughtlessly discarded men), or mouse that
tracks the dust.
foundation.app | image/avif
“Dust to Dust” is a word-unit palindrome poem which explores the themes of war, fate, death, and multiple forms of cowardice.
from #80 - Summer 2023