morning

These are poems about sunset, poems about the song going down and things irretrivably lost, poems about regret. 
 

Sunset
by Michael R. Burch
       
for my grandfather, George Edwin Hurt Sr., on the day he departed this life

Between the prophecies of morning
and twilight's revelations of wonder,
the sky is ripped asunder.

The moon lurks in the clouds,
waiting, as if to plunder
the dusk of its lilac iridescence,

and in the bright-tentacled sunset
we imagine a presence
full of the fury of lost innocence.

Wednesday April 15, 2020

  the Chaos King is his Element

the Chaos King
is in his element
as he presides
over the chaos verse

the Chaos King
thinks he is supreme
has the ultimate authority
as he is the King

the Chaos King
surveys the land
and likes what he sees
loves the absolute chaos

the chaos king
is prepared
to lead the nation
in the midst of this chaos

and the Chaos king
will not stop
until the chaos stops
that is what he does