I tell you
something's off,
wrong
in the way we are in this world.
Can't you see it
in
the artless uni-visions,
erasing diverse ontologies?
Can't you hear it
in
the pregnant lies,
birthing foul songs of woe?
Can't you taste it
in
the blood,
running free from blows-
one steady fist upon face?
Can't you smell it
in
the misfits' flesh
roasting from righteous indignation?
Can't you feel it
in
the untold wounds,
emptying our souls?
Can't you sense it
in
the hope cries,
vacating our indifference?
Something's off,
I tell you,
in this day-2-night of the living death about us.
Something's wrong,
I tell you,
this heart knows.