the faintest glint of light
catches my eye on this stormy day
waves crash down, and its gone
my throat closes, saltwater kisses
i can feel my blood turn yellow
i can smell the million dead fish
that we’ve left for this dying world:
a stillborn sacrifice for a squatting god
balanced on his heels, smoking rancid dreams
talking to noone about the good ol’ days.
the ones who praise him are long gone,
using the living to pick up their tabs.
i kick and fight the ocean to catch that light
that broke through the cloud
but all that’s revealed
is a cold black sun
S Blake Ervin 