Dissonance
by Trevor Mitchell
Tonight I spit lightening
I will burn down the sky
& grind it into dust;
blown away in the rage
of a nuclear winter
the embers of love are
pissed on
by the cancerous dregs
of this mediocre age when
loneliness is a
whispered dissonance
heard down the years,
a flaccid cock that
will no longer rise,
an infection of the heart
that is measured in tears
to be jettisoned, finally,
like the obscene
choreography of the dead.