george l stein's Page

There is a myth

Of two falcons locked in battle

Tumbling end over end to the ground

Maybe you’ve read it

In some dusty corner of Bulfinch

The paper yellowed and brittle to the soft caress

Shredding under sharpened, black talons





I can’t tell you, between us

Who is more right or more wrong

But with lightening speed and absolute certainty

I can clearly ascertain

Whose bullshit I prefer



If life is pain then you and I

Are now living truly

Squarely in the belly of the beast

Never… Continue

Odium

Maybe if you turn it just so
And stand back a handful of steps
Let the light glance over and around the edges
Like a little Jesus halo of sorts
It could be elevated beyond it’s true worth
Gain by virtue of its place in the universe
There could be salvation in the relative positions
Of viewer and object

No.
No, there’s not.

Maybe if you dig a hole
And bury it in the cold ground
Or mail it anonymously to a stranger
Give it as a charitable gift
Leave it in a cab

No.
Still no

Like a hungr… Continue