From the 2020 Collection "War Bread"
#jmartindean #warbread
Therein are the spoils of sorrow, the fruit of hardship, where wind snaps and prevails. Death whispers a hollow secret and I still a shiver
Every time I leave my parents’ ho… I am filled with a sweet sorrow. It has taken me half a lifetime to… and now I love them so dearly, so… They nor I are getting younger
A Sacred Site, to my mind, is the last place you’ll ever stan… Such a place reveals hypocrisy without shaming,
As far as the eye can see— Limitless blue nowhere to be found.
It occurs to me now that no one hears my song. Still young, I am discarded. I don’t anticipate being surprised at my aloneness in old age.
Hollow fang? Volcano. Cat’s purr? Hymnals. Intuition?
Praise those who sit and wait for nothing. Who sit still and know they are owed nothing. On the mat each inhalation
The choir of the saints is heartle… They’ve parried happiness a lifeti… seeking only the old earth, the marsh of the meek— where earnest suffering
This day, there is no ONE to beat your fist… No party, no tyrant, not even a faction—
Nine times out of ten, it’s a demon you’re seeing, not an angel. They have all kinds of disguises, I know-I know,
Are we in the field or on the field? When I soar for the disc I wonder how that cloud got its shape.
The only thing you can prove is how crazy you are. It’s the best defense. Where was I going with this? I don’t know.
She lives no where, has no coordinates, she took me to the gallows, tempted me in the garden and my voice boomed.
Mojave Desert crushed cars stacked six, seven, ten tall. From the junkyard juts a billboard:
If presented with the choice would the dinosaurs have allowed the asteroid or meteor to hit?