The day the dead king spoke the bomb Into the ear of the man who counts the fuses A Saturday, began like Friday had The man who flattens the graves chose his Favorite tractor from a row Of tractors nobody but him could tell apart The one he knew...
Author - Shane McCrae
Some Heavens Are All Silence
Listen to my last breath you’ll hear each breath I’ve drawn Since my voice changed and the sound got Deeper incline your head pull down a shroud from the heaven white Folks get peace privacy from pull one down To cover us...