the clap and blast

...and the frenzy followed us through the iron gates of mahattan, through the barrage, the discharge of silent gunfire. and every amateure, every bastard child, every phony, all those misbegotten, all those waxen in feature, stood aside. frozen by cold, blank by expression, while under every coattail we ran, and believe me, not a single trace nor crumb shall be found. to every charlatan we scream, keep thy trap shut, and oh how they scream right back. my ears ring, my neck the bell tower and my head the bell. the clap and blast humming through my blood, cooking its way to my heart to stun the soul. its only upon the close of each day, and the rise of a purple midnight, that we have time to heal. its only when we close our eyes that we begin to truely see. and the way you make me feel, like liquor on the tongue, on the senses. and oh the broth they brew, bubbling deep poison, like war gas to be thrown the way of their enemies. upon inhalation, a crippling effect. but once healed...once the purple of the night has been replaced with wonderful streaks of orange and fire, we will walk through the barrage again. and the frenzy followed us, and the silent gunfire shaped our steps. some unsure, some fearful, but...then...some resolute.


posted by drew carlascio