Poetry & Prose

Blood in the Sands

surprise! there is more blood

in the sands. reds burned out

from a verdant greed


the skies are spitting fire

there will be no escape.


blink not­––this is a common death

how many bullets must torment

to turn this iron taste sour?


the Earth is now gagging,

retching on our refuse


we have choked the land of its luster

ruptured rumbling rivers in the name

of avarice-writ-chromium


our words lay prone on ocean floors,

drowned: torch-sans-sconce


we end worlds as a kind of joke

smug chuckles at distant flames, raging

ever closer


we revel in this tragic ignominy, too

bloated by our gluttonous appetite


saccharine guilt is our sole interjection.

bitten many times over on our back

sides, sapped by the scope of this sin


this is our daily plague. haunted,

            we smile, goading fate


we lie inside ourselves, true

things coiled into fictions—

doomsday clock resets, and ticks on


until the ubiquitous surprise:

there is more blood in the sands.



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