tom taylor - hew and cry

hew and cry

beyond the end of the line words extend
the force of the drive toward oblivion is
laid out like a roadmap in your soul’s act
an imprint awaiting enactment like a song

or a hue of the cry in the colorless night is
all that’s left on the floor after the crew leaves
and wraps it up for the distinguee aperture is
held up to the light like a small magnifier or

the remains of the day in a cardboard box
hands at the ready, the rifle salute from the
uniformed marines along the top of the canyon
in their advertising glamour, laid to rest now