minus

oh how we are forgotten 

and never seen again 

and how we work at leaving 

in hopes of burying them 

and what a revolution 

to finally breathe thin air 

and hollow out our body 

of weakness rotting there 

the fine anemic notion 

the swish of moving on 

the slenderness of killing love 

the first-rate waste of done

face thunder thunder face

your face is like a clap of thunder
who knows whether to dance or die
and so can thunder stand for you
when the clouds gather chatting
and that shock of heaven
slaps the face of the distant earth
the crack of this stellar insult
makes you rip on, a fuse finely caught
a sonic lash behind and through my eye
and so they trade off
one reminder for the other
face thunder thunder face
and the energy and chill
from both of you
fall like bullets from above
causing the skip of feet
and the deaths of many