I Remember

            

            I remember

           

            seeing an angel once cast down into the streets

            --or perhaps running

            from an enemy

           

            his wings

            broken plume

            a halo knotted in tufts

            of greasy hair

            linen garb mud caked

            and stained

            squatting like a feral dog

            in the gutter

            yellow teeth pinked in blood

            eating a

                        dirty

                                    dead

                                                pigeon--

            its chest ripped and gnawed

            its head cocked to the side

            in a way only a dead bird could

           

            I remember

            something wild in his eyes--

            they weren't his eyes

                                                anymore

            they were not eyes

                                                anymore

            Bulbs that saw

           

            and burnt themselves cut

            like a man turns his head

            closes his mind to the

            perversions of humanity--

            twitching hipsters chasing

            vein throb visions of

            the future

            the flies on eyes of hungry

            bloated children

            the rolled up windows and

            busied hands of righteous

            motorists claiming their

            Throne in heaven.    By God

                                                By Allah

                                                By Christ

                                                By Source

            as they ignore cardboard

            in carrion hands

           

            withered widows think of love

            and the sands of time.

            while train-track memories

            drooled off their chin

            pointed fingers gawking

            and smooth girls afraid to see

            Their future.

            Yes,

                        Yes,

                                    Yes,

                                                The angel's

            Eyes preferring darkness

            preferring to blot out

            Chronos' carnage

            and young children stare to watch it go by. Corrupted

            Corrupted and not yet disturbed

            they are too young to remember

            They are too young to know so they keep open their eyes--

           

            No stars for the angel's eyes

            like a cloudly night

                                                sky

            He didn't care

            So, I stood

            there

            and watched him

            his dirty face had a scar

            over his left eye

            and a scar ran down his chest

           

            I remember

           

            I remember thinking

            those must be

           

            the scars of love.