Fogging by Tyler Wood


the fog banks flowed over the mausoleums

     in the night

changing the engravings to suit the       modern world

they speak in endless graveyard shifts


    the sky rains funnel clouds like mothers tears

and all I can hear are fog horns from white marble steps


sirens with human faces heat blood 

in vats of patriotism and other ideological mis-

representations of humanity


you think your life is a christmas tree

but your hanging all your ornaments on the same branch


your looks won’t hold forever


your teeth may look like pearls but they cut like diamonds


there’s an open mic on a dimly lit stage speaking truth

while the lights focus on dry tongues regurgitating 

hopeless metaphors on the news

ripping at promises like 

            wet paper towels


the fingertips keep reaching

but there’s not enough friction for movement


your morality casts a shadow like the mid-day sun

it’s hot and narrowly focused

at one time you nearly broke this

     the backs were heavy


the fog remains pervasive


zip up your pants 

your scandals are showing


you can claim its luck 

but its easy to get the larger side of the wishbone when you control 

both sides


linguistic battlement facade is all you hide behind

  spitting burning arrows from the deck

but the foam bricks are swaying in the wind


you don’t want a war with ants


lethargic letters falling from gaping 

mouth doesn’t cover it anymore


these cash cows only produce dirty c.r.e.a.m.


your words flick around like a flame

                                              burning those too near

they echo from caskets carrying living souls

that      crawl       across the grave dirt

ground   trying to escape the low-lying fog


you lay out the powder yourself 

now we’re all snorting lines of exidust

in chains of your lexiconquistadors making


we tie ourselves to the ground and struggle to get out of your imprinted tracks

the political diatribe is a logical landslide

                          your policies are wasted ejaculates tossed in the garbage


used up towels


they could have been somebody



        we aren’t babies trying to walk 

            when we haven’t mastered crawling yet


we are a society forced to crawl when we know we can run