Been through the breakups and the shakes
Anchored my young heart
Cold waves crashing on defaced shorelines
All the clamshells have been pillaged
Pearls tied up in chains
Dunes of gutless, mindful, beached whales
Nothing but meat
This apocalyptic love
Felt different seasons
Murdered intimacy running out of time looking for something to do
Boredom ceased our purple hearts
It all ends the same
What you said in the beginning was sacred
To shame
From the cradle to the grave
Mouths turning grenades
Nuclear matrimony buried in these touch-and-go mausoleums
I regret to inform you
This is trench warfare
There are bodies everywhere
We laughed when I told you I had no sense of smell
Your rot brought effluvium back to me
Something like blood on the wind
We become ringed saints
It went from cold rain to hurricane real quick
God damned every man
The woman who is a snare
Very last Christmas had sensations of a funeral
We are going to be the ones to see the inconclusive conclusion
A romantic Roman noir out on those bluffs we danced our way over
Foretold it was a bad seed
In you
Swallowing salt water
Unimaginable thirst
Let me tell you something
Barely making ends meet
Left distances between you and me
And three women
Daniella
On the verge of the banks of your body
Runs rivers down my spine
Coarse felo de se blondes ever since
A dime a dozen left me penniless
Yeah it sounds hubris
But how could it
After what we did to each other
Bound to this wreckage
Chewed my own wrists to get me out of this trap
White trash hell
Just out here shooting the poisoned horses
Intertwined intimately
Inhumanely grueling swapping of spit
With nothing ever said
When things are replayed and worn out
Sacrilegious waste
Been garbage picking for something like grace.
/
ANTHONY GEDELL writes from New Jersey, publishing a story and poetry in Hobart, poetry in Punk Noir Magazine, and has two novels forthcoming with Michael Dolan at Winding Road Stories.
Hell of a piece! Thanks!