Tuesday, September 25, 2018

More Blood


Cutting through the malaise with a machete
Dylan vanquishes fear by opening the door to hope
Here’s the process laid out like a Sears Roebuck catalog or map to the stars

Lays the paint on thick like Vincent
There’s no room for pie, not when there’s all this introspection to digest
I’m stunned and then stunned some more as I listen and am catapulted through the trees and the golden spikes dripping with more blood

Stands in front of the canvas or sits down at the piano
Shapes iron into gates of graceful wonder
And does it without asking anyone for a single, solitary thing

His blood symphonies cover me with goosebumps as my heart becomes a shadow of its former self and the winds of idiocy remind us he’s just a man doing the best that he can
Star artist-astronaut-roving gambler
He exists between the silences and keeps on keepin’ on because what other choice does he have?

Charles Cicirella

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