Trust the Cosmos; Fall from Grace

I stared at a quasar, along the Western sky,

my friend had stolen a bottle of booze, the

alarm was sounded, loudly he rifled, in a

casino, cigarettes over-priced, my money

too precious, my freedom maligned, but

just a moment in time, a blaze, base, best

friend, lost in paschal, schadenfreude, sky-

light in broad flight, and I walked as fast

as I remember, running from his face, his

bottle half empty; I’m not a thief; I’m not

going to jail for your problem; move quick,

manage yourself, baby bastard, cancer run;

we had trench coats in the sixth grade, in

the darkest of moments, I knew him, I felt

his heart, so sad and supple, a meat to

feast, a feigned silence, and his fat body:

the truest of all; do or deign, a purple, silk

shirt resting on your corpse, walking among

my family, a tragic caliber, too strong for

me, for us, like everyone else, stolen by

the thirst for drugs, for I, a language tank,

filled up with books and fear, watched each

winter as they all froze to death in the cast

of a plum grove, circle center, gangrene and

bear traps; fuck you, I will never forget.


EDIT: If you have the time, please check out my poetry chapbooks on Amazon. They are all self-published. Thank you, friends!


~ by Shawn M. Young on December 28, 2016.

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