Fade To Black

They cut away but we know,
we know what happens,
we know if it’s meant to be
bedroom antics
or
flames crawling over a pile of bodies,
we know
they aren’t allowed to show us
so it’s ours to show ourselves,
we know it’s missing for a reason –
perhaps it’s just too realistic –
we know the hardest things to see,
the things that make muscles squirm,
are always the most realistic.

The Private Newspaper

Here it is, fresh from the press,
one edition, a solitary print,
the major headline is for me to know
and every lede is exhumed and
stretched out like a tanning hide –
I will ask,
“did you see the paper?”
“no, of course not,”
because it has served its purpose,
spread no gossip and revealed many truths –
I should like to make another some day,
some day,
when there is something new to examine.

The Fights You Will Lose

Yes,
the bullet will kill you,
No,
you will not cover a fifteen-foot distance and
knock the gun from the killer’s hand,
No,
it does not matter that you are, yourself, armed
and dangerous,
because you are only reacting
and they are acting,
and the first move wins in this game;
Yes,
the bear will kill you,
No,
it does not care that you wrestled in high school
because it has claws
No,
you would not just punch it cold, one shot,
it’s a bear
you moron,
death comes in many forms,
some large, some small,
some unconquerable by force
and others immune to skill
you won’t survive eating
a granule of caesium-137
no matter how many hot-dogs you
ram down your gullet in fifteen minutes;
why would that skill translate?
why would you think yourself the winner
of games you’ve never played?