Armistice Day

 

 

I dribble along

a single drop of perspiration rolling down hard, stony, curves

dipping into slight niches of circumstance

detouring momentarily to hide in the quiet of a crevice

and then out again to wet, lick, glide, smear with tears

Beautiful face of ambition

As I drip, and swirl, and dizzy myself on slippery dreams

I'm grounded to rock dry strong violent in it's security

drawn to solid wall I forget it exists

I move along side it use it enjoy the freedom of movement it brings

and I forget it exists.

But if I listen closely

I can hear the screaming buried in the rock

As I slide along uninhibited in my drive

I am supported by death, and blood, and tears

I'm supported by last breaths, and last words, and last hopes and last dreams

I'm supported by history, guided by its bends, and drops, and turns

I'm assaulted by history

Manipulated by its holds, and thrusts, and burns

Love it,

Hate it,

I'm in the middle of it

Exist because of it, and will die within it.

 

By, Lillian Rodriguez