CITY OF BONES

i live
in the city of
bones

the city
where the salt of
the earth
and the great heat
of fire
have met
dancing together in
the middle of
america

i don’t know
when i got here
and i don’t know
when i leave
time is hopelessly
against me
but i do know
that this is the
place that i find myself
when the well dries up
and the other cities
just point and laugh
at me

i live
in the city of
bones

i am the
great pharaoh
of the city of
bones

i am
lonely and delicate
flower
sipping water
from the poison
soil
trying to grow
my way into your
american heaven
in the city
of bones

i am lost
and worn down
and soldier
to nonsense
and the answer
to dry echoes

i am vultures
stalking from up
above
and angels claiming
sanctuary
away from the
city of bones

i am hallelujah
of vast, radiant and solo
and eternal sidewalk
and red rock
and an equal right
to death
and to live
but crawling
knees and elbows

i am
the city of
bones
and it is
me
and the ebola
of silence
and the cancer
of the
wind
but still
when the sun hits me
i beam it right back
at it
and some days are tequila
and some days
are bad tequila
and some days
are too dry
and too hot to leave the house
but here i am
king
of the
city of bones

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2014

READ “DRUNK AT LEELA’S”

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Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

3 thoughts on “CITY OF BONES”

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