Procession For Empty Spectacle

procession for an undetermined time
processed with confusion
unintended consequences
blasted childhood resolution
with drop zone destruction

would it take a hammer
a gun and a silencer or fire
a wicked blade in the quiet silence
a well placed poisoner
the breath of apostrophe, jagged
like blank and torn semaphores
or simply the long, long exhalation in wait
profession of an apology from the cage
somewhere in texas where they're already dead
half gifts returned from half a person
crowned prince and frog
at once.

the enemy is unmasked
the location of the masquerade
in the upstairs room at the haunted cafe
dimmed voices in the cloisters
obscured by trees and rain

what is left to hear in
the here and now?
an answer for the unanswerable
an effigy for those who can't see
the difference between
vanishing and vow
the murderer waits lost in vice
for the right time
for the slice
of mortal agony
death's hand closes
like a wrapping of ice
made from antimony
(unfinished)

Sounds-Like

Silvery metal spikes
pierced the darkness
of an unlit mind.
And in blackness,
Where all thought forms
A hand reached out and down.
Hands made of silver
and hands made of fire.
Disappearing over and over
like silver arrows in a stream,
like brushstrokes that paint away
the years of confusion
and lost desire.
demons banished to limbo,
defeated by 10,000 guitar notes...
or one Durutti Column solo.