last night someone burnt a church to the ground
the neighbourhood church
and god is angry still
I can smell the wet wood from here

I tried to explain to god that
at least this ends the discussion about
remodelling the place
and now maybe the rector can get some sleep.

I’m still waiting for a reply.

© 2001 i.m. ruzz

am trapped, tapped
chin out, and bleeding.

am twisting, thrashing
heart out, and needing.

am born, broke
hands out, receding.

am heaving, sighing
near you, near leaving

(early 2008)

fit-filled and restless sleep.
dreams of red dress betrayal
and beating that man insensible
with old, hard wood
and running, screaming lies
into the song of summer’s last night.
then waking with arms
dead as frank sinatra
while feeling marches cold
down my limbs
like death.

this was rescued from one of my old sites. I completely forgot writing it around 19 months ago.