No bad act goes unrewarded. Maybe history is a series of conspiracies. Returned to your front door the prodigal sin. It is always the murderer who writes the accepted history. Is the aftermath of dishonor built up into credence. Bad acts with a life of their own & the copious suffering that defines life too distracted to take heed of past tense. Always fire would rain down immolation everywhere an engine of abrasive time the machinery cranking faster & faster rending so much flesh. Forever revising once incited umbrage. Atrocity gilded eggshell smooth by the revisional rhetoric of rent stitched & patched-up haphazard. Of platitude that teach me ambush to merciless kill to cut with my hands surgically to disobey & explode through the walls that bear down deadweight to be reckoned with. & always we dig in disregard to stigmata. Our future only raised palms in the air. Our frustration digging up the desert until we unearth the relic once lost in a dream of our past. Until we heal.
henry 7. reneau, jr. writes words in fire to wake the world ablaze: free verse illuminated by courage that empathizes with all the awful moments, launching a freight train warning that blazes from the heart, like a chambered bullet exploding inadvertently. His poetry collection, freedomland blues (Transcendent Zero Press, 2014), was released in September of 2014. He also has an e-chapbook, entitled physiography of the fittest (Kind of a Hurricane Press, 2014), which was released in December of 2014. Additionally, he has also self-published a chapbook entitled 13hirteen Levels of Resistance, and is currently working on a book of connected short stories.