boots

 

I’m nothing but a stranger in this land

my awkward gait and twisted tongue

lost for a time, but now in season

these are the suicidal days of autumn

when heavy winds scourge the earth

and persistent rain bleaches the life

from sallow-skinned natives

 

I’m a flightless bird, a drowning fish

a crock of broken promises

at the grey end of the rainbow

I’m a cesspit of stinking lies

buried beneath the garden weeds

the distillation of crocodile tears

bittersweet and poisonous

 

I’m the product of excreta

spewed from angry mouths

a child birthed in anguish

and raised on baneful legends

incongruous momentum

sows havoc at my heels

the accumulation of oxidized dreams

red ochre are caked to my feet

heavy shit to scrape from my boots