Pounding the Door Into Gray, by James De Crescentis, 2015

We Put Transistors Everywhere

And forget the places as they get razed by bulldozers
with cranes flattening to dirt what took so long to be
born a religion of death so far out of touch flames bring
candles lining small squares, ice skating rinks bemoan
flowers shifting down the beat falls where it wants to,
arrows pointing at no one.

The rainmakers dance in a field of torn roses, their feet
bleed sorrow streets have no paychecks in space too long
remembers nothing, can’t help but be that way. Your
neighbor speaks inside like this sometimes coming home
backyard or one long front room called peace should be
dealt quickly into being.

That’s how it goes, footloose days and nights burn down
all around us trash barrels kicked over, spilling out of
here connections, see millions of plastic razors buried
deeply and never giving up a shape pulled out for
suicidal earth, easing directly towards housings’ narrow
outside windows.

—(Excerpted from Pounding the Door Into Gray, James De Crescentis. Igneus Press (2015))