The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age
    Joe Wood's picture

    I Sat Upon the Moonlit Night

    By Joe Wood on Sun, 05/24/2009 - 6:25am |

    i slept upon the moonlit night

    i sat at where the shadows warm

    the darkness felt the coldness numb

    and fell upon my wounded arm

     

    i sat upon the windows sky

    i ate the anger from my tears

    and years of love informed my cry

    and hate the burning stench of years

     

    i bathed in starry'd blues beheld

    i raped the smiles of looming builds

    the ache of art had smoothed the blade

    that smelled of carcass rot decayed

     

    i weeped in slowly salty breath

    the looming towered arrow flies

    and knowing love consumed by death

    gives sound to trumpet blooming dies

     

    i sat upon the death of night

    as one sits lonely on a throne

    to ponder living conscience what

    the rosy thorn hath always known