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Archive for August, 2020

Its street numbers
spell “hell,”
and a string
of horrid death
stretch
over the years
behind
its posh
cottage
exterior
in
an
exclusive
side of town.

But now
it stands
empty
forsaken
by whispers
and torrid
tales:
windows
covered
by old newspapers
as if
even looking
inside
might
burn
your eyes
pierce
your brain
and leave
you a zombie.

So,
this country
which
promised
sweet
comfort
a warm hearth
a new start,
a better life:
oh, insidious
trickster
how often
I fell for
your beauty,
vast
glamorous landscapes
to be so easily
trapped
by rapidly rising
tides
of hate
lies
and just
out right
meanness.

I refuse to
believe
it all has
fallen
into this
Hollywood
farce:
with a puppet
at its helm:
worse than any
house of horrors
thicker than blood
spilt in any
murderous
night romp
dressed
in a cloak
of lies
as long
as my years.

Last night
I woke
to thoughts
of falling
deep
in a well
deeper
still
into raging torrents
of muddied
waters
drowning
in darkness
dragging
every
hopeful
naive
ancestor
into
the abyss
of nothingness:
oh father,
how you
would
cry at the sight
of what
estos grandes estados
de union
have become,
where
your grand children
and great grandchildren
were to have flourished
like
the towering eucalyptus
of your home land
deep in the Andes
smelling so pungent
and sweet
with possibility.

I awoke
and in the dark
swore
it would not be so
hope
will rise
and change
must come
as
the lotus
rises
from mud,
song
from the tiniest
of wrens,
life
from death,
so too these
charges
we have been
given
must see their day –
We have taught
them well
and forward
they will forge
because
the only thing
we can really
count on
is that nothing
ever stays the same
and time
waits for no one:
even the ones
we most love.

note: Hell house is located in a southeast neighborhood in Portland, Or.

 

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