Birds Scream in Attics (standard:poetry, 256 words)
Author: kendall thomas	Added: Aug 23 2007	Views/Reads: 2991/1917	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
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I walk down marble halls 

that echo nothing genuine 

Birds scream in attics 

Women blacken their eyelids 

with soot and dab their cheeks with blood 

fixing men with sharp knives 

Down empty corridors 

blood-drenched eunuchs 

find mirrored doors leading where 

houses of glass, frosted temples 

dedicated to doom 

interiors streaked with black 

stand abandoned in one of many forgotten infinities 

Nothing ends, all remains 

Each flyspeck a galaxy or a new dimension 

Unfathomable glass serpents twine around silver trees 

spinning gross tales of fruitless deeds 

Empty bottles of physic 

drunk in splendor 

Wailing through the telescope 

I hear birds in attics screaming 

Touchstones, moonstones, tombstones 

Dead soldiers rising marching backward from war 

then Charlie Chaplin fast forward through time 

No beginning, no middle, no end 

Time concaved, convexed 

The mirrored doors show us coming and going 

Houses of glass with frosted panes 

Mud puddles reflect dead men 

with insect-breeding faces 

Bullets flee from the barrel 

of angry lilies like tack-headed hornets 

nailing what to what end? 

A blue cobalt sky 

Baited traps of a pristine wood 

The hyacinth dares not 

one false step for its namesake 

Lies and deceit leading on 


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