Issue
#3

May
2009
 

 

2 poems by Matt Finney

 

ebb

the sound of trains moving away and the blood they carry from town to town. the
child is cut in two and factories spring up out of the poisoned soil. this is the faith
left behind by all saviors. you'll learn that it's never the same thing as hope.

© Matt Finney


present

we are warming our hands with the heat of burning bodies and we are breathing
in their pain. we are a nation of whores and we are swimming in the blood of the
beast. it doesn't matter that we will never be forgiven.

© Matt Finney



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