remnants of a prostitute

seek to exploit

an object to be of service

to justify

an existence she must have lived

in these bones some time

sold them hollow

to make a home

even today he survives

dark alleys of my mind

anxious to bring justice

to being alive

like a table that’s come to life

he seeks a purpose beyond herself

a salvation that never arrives

Saint Soldiers

nailed, skinned, and

burned alive for freedom

yet we shackle ourselves

in their names