Punctured Tones

(with Brad Burjan)

The walls hum

with uncertainty
only because they

               stand

in thought, fluctuating
atoms of soundless
mind stuck in the air
like a black and white
picture that [[deafens]]
in the darkness,

                awakens with the thrill

                                  of defeat

                            and it’s

        H                  E              R             E

where the gods huddle

underneath            the skin of air
creating cavities in teeth
from the sweet decaying

                  hope of filling that point

of time that a million Buddhas

                    never

                    could.

 

The heart quickens to stop

       and is entrenched in something

a little more than what even Jesus

could imagine.

 

The heart quickens to stop

        as lips hover to drop

a punctured tone and the only thing
you hear are heart attacks falling
from the mouths of men.

 

The heart quickens to stop.
We are all accomplices
to murder in the end.

 

Aleathia Drehmer/Brad Burjan

Published by Red Fez, Red Reader #1