Tears of Pericles

And Pericles, brandishing his
arms, his outstretched hands
aimed his nakedness at a troubled
sky, at what was once an impermeable
expanse, now a flashing alien eye,
or the catarrhal, coughing mouth of God,
and drank a heady liquor of its rain
with the teardrops of a rotting body—
“What justice is this?
And where does man go when he is
finished? Where, God, do his grievances reside?”
Beneath a brave man’s tears—
the deep drone of human mourning,
the closing eyes of babies,
sudden waste of life’s brief fortune.

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio


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