Crack Heads

We live, spliced more or less;

Deep fissures cut carelessly

Through carefully constructed

Fictions; order presented

To the world whilst back kitchens

Crammed with chaos and decay

Reflect a shaming scission

Between ourselves and our display.

Fractured hearts hide in suburbs

Fair faced whilst passions splinter

Long held dreams; desire disturbs

The pale surface of Winter.

The chasms undredged, silt up

With waste waters that fester

In cold darkness as we sup

With some evasive jester.

Beware the peddlers who sell

The holistic; we can dream

Of healed wounds, of salving gel

To smooth the roughly joined seam.

But the best we can hope for

Is an alloy, soldering

Our fractured selves, whole no more,

But in ice and heat bending.

Laughter sits cold on the slab

Crazy cracked as the world curls,

Corrosion pierces the drab

Walled off worlds where anger hurls

It’s insults, drowned by the noise

Of consumption. Consumption

Indeed – hollow eyed choice

With no tear of compassion.

There are bigger fish to fry

Than our lives’ hidden shallows.

Earth cracks, ashes spew to lie

On new lands, spawn embryos

For some strange adaptations;

New creatures feed from our fractures

Forged by agony, stanchions

For a stage with new actors.


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