if rambo sewed curtains
instead of his arm
what strength would he
place in the cotton,
resilience to tugs and pressure
from a climbing cat
or a child wishing
to see snow from a
winters window,
it need not be war
it need not be pain,
sometimes curtains close
out the things we wish
not to see,
but does rambo need
to sew them every time
Rambo
there has been a
spill and overflow
river once clear now
mucous thick,
abstract articles
floating past,
as i wonder where
it flows,
a meander
with tissue caught
on twigs,
testaments and
statements
such utterances of
truth,
drying out gnawed
by feral rats,
how much further
does it go,
the stench becomes
a taste infecting
each mouthful,
we used to believe
now unsure,
as a child a silver
mouthful could
be scooped as now
with pallid cheeks
look at the boiling
mass beneath my
gaze
velvetmedia 