In and Out

In and out of myself, altogether,
my two eyes blink
at brightness neon cannot measure.

Up close, the air so perfectly clear,
I can see paint breathe.

Everything I feel is of substance.

Off there, greed pours down a mountain.
Streams of hate score cliffs.

Rape devours the land: it’s on fire.

Hail rains down pride.
Unsurprising, the ground is shaking.

Denial, a vulture, is preening.
It sits a tree.
The odor of putrefaction
is on the breeze.

A misery of sand shifts and drifts.
The mirage of hope
retreats in a billow of smoke.

Where can I go?

My feet are much too slow,
my shoes too porous.

Volcanoes of envy are exploding,
wrath is pouring out
and covering the landscape with ash.

My eyes are burned out from looking.

There is no hope.

Come, Spirit! Come, Spirit! Come quickly!
Just cut my throat!