The World is Growing Weary of the Wars to Save Its Soul

something sparks it
and i remember those days,
the months, the long long hours,
the warrior years:
crawling up my spine to
sting me in the neck,
drip drip dripping flinging sweat
from heavy-breathing skin,
punch punch punching
the proverbial bag
(and real),
a list
the length of God’s right arm
comprised of worthy causes
worthy causes causes
causes strapped
to my back
like a war in my gut, like a fire;
and the fierceness in the eyes and
the frowning of the brows and
the curling of the lips.

i walked a road
that split a thousand ways,
a thousand ways:
a thousand ways to
the end of the world or else to
its salvation, but i could travel only one.

watching it,
the ember fades like
the minute before the last…
like that one… like this one… and

i know i gave it up to save myself.


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