reparation condemnation
reparation condemnation
reparation condemnation
by Douglas Hardman
Alert the soldiers Call in the bomb squadA civil war A funeral scoreBlood-soaked arms Tear-stained facesOverture RepudiationNobody could have predicted the outcomeExcept everyone who has an inkling of intuitionHow could one man produce so much disaster?Single-handedly disrupting the natural order with a plastic smile and clown tearsI called to arms my biggest enemiesFriends and family alike were invited, but no one dared to RSVPUnbeknownst to me, they’ve seen it all beforeRagged and tired, the troops line up, unenthusiasticallyAnother day, another dramaTurn the page, flip the script
What you read, is not what you seeYou do not have to believe what you see
As soon as the first shot was firedI ran for my lifeWeak legs carrying the weight of my mistakesThe battle-torn streets echoed my nameIt took them three seconds to throw in the towelTheir general AWOL, the soldiers fall stiff on the battlefieldI laid low for six days to ensure I could rest on the seventhMessages in empty whisky bottles I could not dare to sendHow much more damage could I let my pen do?
Caskets with rainbow flagsPrescription bottles with no warning label
The daylight burns the color out of my eyesMy bloodied knuckles covered in dust and dried-up tequila sunriseI grasped to the familiarBut it was no longer therePopulation: zeroBecause I did not think I made it out aliveAlone again, something felt differentThe same old had not warranted the same old feelingThere was a change afootI didn’t dare dust myself offSo I could see who I was in the mirrorTake a good look, discover a new foundationLearn to let go of all my trepidation
A turned new leaf from the same treeAiring on the side of reckless positivity
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Featured in our March 2022 issue, "Structure/Destruction"