"The Lord is nigh unto them that are of
a broken heart; and saveth such
as be of a contrite spirit."
Psalm 34:18

I like the sound of the chickens 
through the window

I don't know what they're
talking about,
but

They seem relaxed

Like mellow feather
pillows

I like the sound of the incidental
music in this country,
German polka
beats
falling like golden

Tubas from the accordion tree

Are the neighbors friendly?

They have a shrine
to someone's fallen

Daughter in the
window

They were shelling crabs

They didn't seem friendly

They don't have to be

I probably wouldn't be friendly
if I had a broken heart,
especially to a
foreigner,

Which I do,
which is why I am a foreigner

It's easier to bleed

Out in a place where there is no
expectation to be
loved

The derision here
can never be
of the unbearable
family variety

I truly am exhausted

I am tired of the narcissistic
derision, the financial

Virtue of the Matrix

I am afraid for it,
but I don't feel bad
for it

There is more wisdom in Mexican
chickens, singing in
German

Aren't you tired
of the dead world sermon?

My broken heart is my only weapon






9.6.26