you will want to read this properly i wager 

i:
new york kids stand sidebyside lined up
for cafeteria deliverance

these jeans washed out and bluer than
our sky is this day i think “
but is it not a sin to
dream of twisted metal
?” of shrapnel bent flaming sent spiraled
13 boxes of bullets (for
luck
)

ii:
less&less daybyday underneath a sick roof
ill with one too many bad dreams
“where now lie the fruits
of our madness &can anyone be
brought back to us
?” but repsonses are none.

their tears are fought like enemies
because they are
and rather than lay down their demon
grin they
march ever onward to
ward oblivion

iii:
albany adults fresh with jailcell soapscent
sifting through paperwork
counting personal statistics
i ask them “what is the
best use
of company time
, do you think ?”
they answer pornography
faces scarred and throats stained with drink
and–
smoke. they are unforgiven still &so i think
of the women they must
masturbate to under computer desk canopy
or between bathroom stall walls

iv:
a return to old haunts leaves many men ghosts
however these old bucks unwise in their
thoughts they do seek to entertain the
young impressionable types
leaving mislead loyalties and blood feuds
in their wake or
perhaps at it

they don’t know if killing each other like
this is
genocide or suicide
i say “both”.

v:
end of the line and all but one
have satan’s brimstone hand took ; all but
one has fallen in battle so
‘honorably’ (inexorably)
quiet and sick these liver spots see out unto the earth
a thousand tiny plagues for the final horseman
and the apocalypse he never brought.

vi:
“i let my
mother
down.”
a final regret.
“i left my father
shamed”