LOST AND BEAT AND NOW

we’ve been through a lot of time in the desert
we’ve been through the hollow barrel of a pistol
we’ve been through a seance
a table of writers stirring over dotting a question mark
we’ve been lost amongst ourselves
robbed apartments, gutted houses, fumigated homes
dead lawns, sprayed down by chemical agents of chaos
we were hollow. we were stuffed.
we paraded around in ambulances.

we’ve been through a lot of time barefoot on the living room floor
we’ve been through smoky headlights in new york city
we’ve been bruised, and bloodied up
for spitting on the sidewalk
we’ve been left with pens and notebooks in psych wards
we’ve been pressed for time, energy and money
we’ve found our sunflower and allowed it to wilt

now i’m  not  so certain of what we are
we’re some cosmic whirlpool of our grandfather’s dust
intentionally unintentional violent reactions of peace
we are made with metal bones and eyes like pixels
we are lighting the kerosene rope so the past can’t climb up after us
we are drowning out the television in our dirty bathwater
we are rebuilding our houses with more tolerance between the bricks
we are putting down hardwood floors over our burial plots
we are burning down bridges because we can swim across oceans
we are here to be labeled by you, dear future
we will try to be kind if you promise to do your best to be

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012

READ “FEAR”

(PAUSE)

two buildings
side by side
the world’s largest pause symbol
in september of two thousand one
america froze midstep
in coffee shops people were forced to take a minute
to look into the eyes of friendly strangers
the nation took a mental day
muted the tv

and watched the sound of chaos colliding with structure
we remembered
this land is our land
this land is your land
but the world’s largest pause symbol
made us take a second to realize
we do not own the skies

i wonder what the last thing the twin said to her brother was before she watched him burn to the ground zero

frozen in time
new york city
rippling to the pacific coast highway
the gulf of mexico
through radio, through television
through fragile phone calls
our two american arms
reaching up towards god
shattered like a piggy bank
the world’s largest pause symbol
like a drop of blood reminding us
we are human
we are all united most of all
that in a blink of an eye
we can disappear
we all are walking around on a powder keg
smoking cigarettes
bombs    strapped to our hearts

i wish the duality of this tragedy
would wash away the space between us all
i wish that people would notice
two divided buildings, together they fall
ashes to ashes, dust to dust
left wing, right wing
one plane crashing into three dimensions

“my head is on fire
my knees feel weak
i am dizzy, disoriented
butterflies running around in my stomach
my very foundation is shaking
won’t someone break my fall?”

this has been a test of your emergency broadcast system
we now return you to your regularly scheduled program

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012

READ “SELF-MUTILATION”