point fingers

And how is it that the guilty are always the first to point fingers?

We held those truths- we held them so tenderly, so tightly, so dearly-
in between clenched ass cheeks in a summer salty sweaty breeze,

we even held them between our teeth and smelt gunpowder-
even though we had never known the smell up until then,
in that moment everything made sense

and all things had names

We held those truths but nothing was ever made self-evident
except for the lies cried like money spent.

To dispense with ignorance possibly, maybe
all one needs is to dispense with adjectives;

to let a needle thread its string on the belly of a beast,
to let the choir children sing from underneath
the moon's dark side

could quite probably be the meaning

not of life; for the meaning of life is living, but the meaning
of death.

And like a check cashed in the bank of the bereft
we hang the juries in dreams and let the suspects
eat ice cream treats

from the underside of a moon, from the darkness of the beam,
from the choir of children that doth sing.