The Pain of Living (a poem)

My skull is packed with worms
They slither and they squirm
But let’s be serious now
Let’s scamper in the streets and prowl

When the machines fell from the sky
I got a burning sensation in my eyes
The satellites crashed through our roof
And the pain of living was quite acute

The preacher told me God was dead
He’d supervised the killing himself
Then he stood up and declared
He was moving to a different realm

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Buried Treasure (a poem)

Buried deep in this sea, there is ancient treasure –

it’s been hidden for ages, from a sunken ship

that carried gold and human remains,

but all that remains

are brittle bones, skulls + chests filled with fortune –

I’ll dive deep + discover it, even if it kills me,

bring it back to this sandy shore so I can

explore this coastline dotted with land mines

from a distant war – the war that took my father + tore

this island nation to pieces: the woman wailing,

lonely in their huts without their husbands +

the children afraid of the night

when mutant-men prowl swamplands of death

+ devour human and beast alike.

(Photo by Max Okhrimenko on Unsplash)