[Newspoetry] ...

[William at Spineless Books]

Into your eyes with the future then

will I burn a cupcake wrapper in an ashtray after

the look you give me pleads for your seriousness

I think we both know something neither knows

impaled on the bow of history, I see you

salt stings my eyes until I turn

I needed your disapproval perhaps

or I knew your project needed ghosts to manage it

after the mushroom cloud ate Chicago

and the handcuffs coiled with surprising speed

everything scripted, not just by the victors

I relax into these memories of the future

because the heroes will be erased

their ink smeared into false calligraphies

while in the basement the letterpress clanks

bent to the service of poetry

quietly, then, unfairly, unreasonably, I live

to carry your truth forward through the blistering lies

Pinochet is dead