((The New Sensibility))

The dazzling birth of a nation,
I exit destruction
and cavort into more destruction.

Pile upon pile of trampled songs,
a disbanded chorus now decimated,
the laughter and the howl
obliterated at the tip of a thousand tongues.

They close the door,
yet the day comes and finds them,
a mouthful of morning,
a splash of luscious horror
with coffee and crackers

And a rain speckle of clarity
before the din and commotion
of luminescence bursts all doors and
windowpanes wide open,
A view on a city
riddled with puddles and drunkards.

A new sound
that I've always known, singing
as if a timeless voice,
the memory of my bones,
a shrilling laughter
that pulsates and reveals itself as inexorable,
and their dust still howling in the helicoids.