Murals

Why why why so many murals of hateful things;
waves are towering across the town, the moon the moon devours us
All good things must die in shame all
bad things must live in piece.
Even so the nightingale calls with tremors
of the earth with roars like engines;
Machines digging across the yard
Searching for a new earth beneath the soil bones
like gold, bones like watches.
   Time and time again we see the landscape of your forehead
beating us like waves;
slap, slap, slap of meat.
Squirrels rushing to fill the juicy cave with nuts of gold
piece after piece after piece of crushed glass
cuts at my feet and the blood becomes an ocean.
Rubies of glimmering sundrops
drop drip drop
   down to the earth and bones and the creatures that live yet further beneath
drip drop drop
   of blood and rain and sundrops
sunlight on the moon
moonlight on the gravelled road, the graveyard road peacocks
walking their pretty necks outstretched to
catch a glimps of
the golden deeadlight sea.