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There was a fire in the Northern sky
and I couldn’t dare look away.

Its slow death reigned on me
so innocently that
I then became the king of the Badlands.

The war struck woods.
There they were

Stuck in a solid line -
one by one, body after body;
I followed casually behind.

I watched them come undone
in the flowing current.
It was time for past ground to be reached

so I let them have it.
The ashes rained down
So swiftly that

I had a second to think
about this ground under my feet
It is mine.

My own earth.
No one shall ever take it.
I will die on this land.

As I thought about this peace –

A hand took shape into mine.
I turned to look and there it was,
The blazing flame

In my morning sky.
The solid star shine
Every night. . .

My picture perfect view hadn’t burned out
It was just my eyes that needed adjustment.

Her cool breath woke me every morning
and it's only getting hotter. . .

How about I start one more fire?
I think of you,
when I see the stars    

&

I am reminded
of what little light it takes    
to see true darkness.
Around the pool of chandelier light the movers and shakers gathered
in tight knots, unwilling to untangle from the policy books
intent on pushing fences further out into the Caspian Sea
across the Black Sea and encircling the whole Artic Circle
from latitude whatever to wherever.

The chief fence maker arrived with a pair of pliers
and rolls of barbed wire twenty thousand posts
and a battalion of unnamed soldiers all hiding
behind masks of make-up

" Now listen, people, roll out that spikey wire starting from here
to eternity and keep going around the globe until you return
five hundred years to meet the beginning with the end!"

A few bald heads bowed but wary of  cross-hairs
hiding along the ceiling behind sharpshooting
shapeshifters.
They knew instinctively, that unbowed head may be bowled
over and transported to Siberia in a meat wagon
for permanent freezing with the mastodons.

"Go Now, do not turn back, ever, or you will become
a pillar of salt."
The band played The Last Post
as the last post rolled out.

Peace began as soon as the war ended
and the fences were built around the entire
Northern Hemisphere.
We are but streams of atoms
saturated with strange beliefs
rituals and rants, circuses of  meaningless blather

yet we follow trodden footpaths
to the same end
once gone, gone for good.

all the crap that comes with afterlife
all the books and mementos gone too
'gone for good'

so this is life
live it in abundance
dance where you must
become a borderline personality
write meaningless drivel
so what

religion exists because people exist
did god make man or man make god?

bury me with no mantra or magic
or shoot me into space
once again into the stream of atoms
of nothingness.

Author Notes

Optional
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
impeccable artwork
splayed red anger
diffused dangerously
imminent explosion

take down your temper
ice it in silence
spread change
draw conclusions
inherent haste

find tranquility
in people places
abstract soliloquy
ethereal furnace

split skin  burnt moments
wanderer waking
in a strange place

stars foretell
insipid futures
we are destined
for another ice age?

© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 days ago

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