Raymond Farr


Apparitional States

4.
The identity
Of the man

Is being withheld
He is one link

In the busted fence
Of a hi-jacked

Civilization
In a stolen police car

He is taking us
Nowhere

His blue eyes
Stray from

The treacherous road
& raving

Along the edges
Of a bleak river

At sunset
He sets fire

To the ghosts
Of 2 wrong ideas

& so we find him
Complicit

In how
Our city—lit up

Like a call girl—
Is dying now—

A corpse
In a house

In total
Darkness

& somewhere off
In a canyon

A nightmare
Of teen boys

Is roaming
Our block

In the pitch
Blackness

& looking for
“the shit”

Apparitional States cont'd

 
 
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