Suburban Holocaust

In my heart, there is a dark steep holocaust

Where suburbs grow like smoky jagged crystals

Looming sharp shadows that hang over my dreams


And in a tucked away neighborhood

Just beyond the trees

With the 3d printed houses where kids learn their ABCs

And skin their knees on their own little rectangles of grass and stolen earth

There, I tear my heart down


With an exhale giving up

I crush my compass at a chapel and resign myself to you

I burn my letters with a blue flame and I eat up all the ash



I tear my heart down

With a jagged piece of glass.

With a city and a street

With a silhouette of teeth

Where the paved down broken people meet and put all of their tokens neatly in the machine

It’s mostly silver and grey but there’s patches of green

Where the sheep all eat hay

And you lay down your dreams

And a man in a suit gives you a receipt and a child and a roof and a slice of rotten meat and everything you thought you were going to be burns away suddenly into cinders on your tongue

And the greenhouse gases from your dreams collect up in your lungs

And you struggle, something in you screams, but you keep climbing the rungs

And going to the grocery store

And washing your face

And tearing your heart out

Lace by red lace


You were a coyote

And a cactus with a crown

You were going to float around the world and make a lot of sound

But you sold your ticket and you gave up your crown for an insurance policy and a quiet place to drown


And you were doing just fine; all the knobs on your life support were beaming and bleeping

You were doing just fine,

You were screaming and seeping

And all your vital signs were right where we wanted them

You were going to quietly sleep through this life

With a suitcase and a wife and a summer home and an empty place to keep the empty electrical socket of your soul

And a shoebox and a Netflix account

And a rabbit in a hole


You were doing just fine until the sedative of slow emptiness wore off

And suddenly

You could feel

The teeth of the succubus slowly

Draining you out drop by crimson drop

and you cried out for more pain for more teeth

you cried out for a mirror so you could watch yourself bleed

you cried out for a time machine and a way to know what to need

your coinstacks all tumbled and you caved in your dreams

in your last breath you mumbled

but no one heard what you said

that last secret that you told

before your soul went to bed


but its been speculated

that the forest smiled that night

with dark and starspacled teeth

Maybe the world wrote off your taxes and granted you leave

and maybe the trees gulped you up

so you could finally breath.


Maybe you slipped away quietly into the dark sleeve of night

Maybe someone, somewhere flicked back on your lights.