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A Patron Saint's Skull Crowned with Flowers

Justin A. Clark

there is no god                                                      keep throwing stones into barrels,

there is only you and me                                     the way a mountain and a valley

roaring in the dark                                                 touch at twilight, at sunrise;

like this: your name written                                   two roads diverging at a sign post

on the outside of a vessel                                    left standing with names scratched

in the heart of hell:                                                 in the front: yours, mine,

a man, a woman                                                   all our names

and the heart that holds it all;                              floating in the smoke,

there are thousands in this life                            roaring in the dark

who will fall in love only                                         like this: giving up on hope

to return just one more time                                and dying of broken things;

to the things they hate.                                         melancholy and grief,

the truth is everyone wants to go to hell           a songbird sings only

but it ain't such a pleasant place                       what it can’t forget, only what it holds

once you finally get through the door,               in its hand: your name written

just screams and tears and a long haul           on the inside of a vessel

back to the beginning.                                          where treasures are stored

About the Author

Justin Clark is a single father. He has an Associates of Science in History and an Associates of Art in Philosophy. His work has been featured in The Tecumseh Review and Southchild Lit.

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