A.
where are the ash-gray fields
of 1,000 suns landing?
where are the burnt joshua trees?
cracking, swaying, blackening unbending
in the unholy wind of science
where are you burnt, joshua?

you can't see the tongue in my cheek
through the charredness of my corpse
pink tongue in a flaked black hole
lolling in silent or forgotten laughter and homilies
white eyes rolling on the black field of my face
watching you think I'm something I'm not

the high gold sun is cool in a blue sky
next to the black and white crater
of glass sand; burning pit of my center
where are you, burnt joshua?

B.
oh Palestine
olive grove of my heart
imposed upon by
encroaching colonizers
saturating your borders
and hill tops, tapping into,
pissing into the water
the humble low point

that the whole world were blind
let me stand, let me die

oh fields of buffalo
blotting out the grass and sun
oh moving mountains of white
mountains of white skulls
bleached by a cold sun
mourned by the whistling blades of grass

that the whole world were a blind eye
let me stand, let me die

C.
I am a dumb thing, juvenile
a pretender (though for no lack of trying)
I do not think it can be helped
people are giants - bright giants!
phenomenal miracle machines
exquisite even in their mistakes
these people, some people, make me feel small
by their beauty, their dynamism

some people make me think I'm something
but this is the ignorance of arrogance
a puffed-chested ant beneath the tread
of a man, attributing the luck of size
and a rubber channel to my own power
really they're all bright giants - look
at their faces. I'll tell you I'm nothing
but an ant, but even ants are something
though not much. let me twitter on the
sidewalk, blot out my suns bright giants
give me day and night, fill me with
thunderous talk, planets of laughter
floods of tears and the rest

Broadcasting live from The Underground: may God be with you all.
JS