Let me tell you a story.
But first let me tuck you into the bed we call borders
In the white sheets we call politics
With the stuffed bear called the government.
Lay your head upon a soft pillow of graves
So you don’t have to see
The monsters
The two-legged animals
Lupus
Gore running freely from their jugulars
Skin in their claws; in between their molars
Not from our own but those of another.

Let me tell you a story
It might be a fantastical thing that sheds no truth
Just lies and fibs and broken ribs
But in this world it’s more about white noise
An in between of two things we call right and wrong
A patchwork of grotesque stitches that don’t belong
To one person or 8 billion for that matter
Of a cloth that's been torn limb from limb
Pollock splashes in bits and pieces.

Let me tell you a story
Two siblings of the same
Rotten tail and spine
It drips from us all
The guilt of the same mistakes on different soil
When the lukewarm ink comes to a boil
The kettle might scream and wail
But the ashen smoke of fired guns
Transcends us all
And it catches us vulnerable.

Let me tell you a story
How do you rationalize a broken world?
Where a lifetime of wounds can be inflicted
In one strike
And the very stuff of your being is gone
Built on the lather of wrongdoings
Each wretched brick, bone, stick and stone
Awful concrete frames
Frames of mind that mistake peace