Blood on the Bolls

standing in the hall
back against the wall
staring at the stains
wading in the pain
hole in the ceiling
wishing it would rain
just to feel again
from falling down the
hill again no glass broken
 in the window pane
bathing in the sunglow  
 pineapple yellow
cut into pieces like
a lemon Jell-O mold
motivation, Energy
Moldavite green
red rose in a crystal vase
black candle on the mantle
half the mark half past dark
we are not going to war
we are the war, we have always
been what they are fighting for
the human, the hue in man
the U man, you man
URU man, we had to pick
the cotton, coz, they couldn't
we bled on bolls, picked
in a row, hung from ropes
same as blood on the cross
no blood lost, that is not
deemed, redeemable
we are the books
we are the chapters
we are the captives
awaiting the rapture