September 30, 2017

The Ninth Moon in a Sky of Red

These crazy days
The good old days
that never existed

nostalgia is the boogeyman, the monster under the bed,
the faceless woman standing outside your window at midnight—
it’s what we see
when we’ve spent
staring into

truth and memory
melt under the sun
that never seems to set
on this empire of demons

what is there to remember if your only memory
is one you’re forced to never forget
there’s no use in recalling what hasn’t left your mind
it’s like looking for a pair of glasses
that’s already propped up on your head

It makes you feel stupid.

And that’s exactly the point.

every year the same tale, the same slogan, the same warning
the same rhetoric, the same fiery voice, the same fire
banner after banner in every corner, on every street
spouting allegiance to the flag of blood and bones

sure, you can’t forget what you don’t know
but with that stupid smartphone and that internet connection
you have no fucking excuse

the ninth moon
is here to illuminate the red sky
a bull can’t ignore red
it can only charge

but this is not the end
history is no rock
that can’t be thrown at the brittle walls of

demands to remember come in waves
violent waves thrashing against each other
Remember! they said, Remember! the others said
So which one should it be??? Which one is it???
you can’t remember what you don’t know

but you can ask, you can look
into that puddle of truth and memory
and tell me what you see
go on, take a look & be on the right side of
you know what I mean?

These crazy days
The crazy days
                        that brought us here.