in the loved & tortured eyes

by normal

         “in defeat there are no prophets and no magicians
          only the look in the loved and tortured eyes”
                    — Muriel Rukeyser — Seventh Elegy

the war raged
the monsters lick themselves
phosphorescence fill the air
the asphyxiated child runs toward the field
the field runs weeping to god

the war raged
your average day meets my average day
our average day meets the face of collective man

at night school children lie naked beneath
a psychopathic moon

in the morning, the sun is chewed by licking monsters
i see you there in my heart
i see you up there in the world
running in the streets, sleeping on your couch
what fish is in your beak today, kind sir
that would disdain all things green & shining?

the war raged
my better angels speak to your better angels
the rooster crows & the common man passes
to the left & to the right
& in our dream the children drink sweet milk
in the field inside our eyes,
among the turtles the fish & the lilies
where we have learned to accept our toys.