by Brian Jones

Added 13 October 1997

does a fascist feel remorse
when he blows his brains out?

one (left) eye wider than the other

i reach up and touch
a paper snowflake still
hanging in my room.
a larger snowflake is shadowed
into a menacing mask.

you just have to love.

a black woman running (from
a dead lover)
a drunk drivers deed
gone unpunished.

the heart bulges with trembling

a c.e.o.
standing on a ledge
his only sign of fear
is the tear unrelated
to his precarious position.

pigeons fly, can he?

the boy sits
in a naked trembling
drug lust, believing he is
raping the black and white
woman before him.

thirteen years of death 'til death.
a young man knocks
at the door
which opens to show
the book in his hand
and his sermon.

couldn't leave well enough alone.

ten years old,
stinking up the alley,
she lies dead from the
wounds and pain given
by the three joy seekers.

her great pain that much joy for her untamed lovers.

if i blow my brains out
into a menacing mask
gone unpunished
to my precarious position
in a naked trembling
which opens to show the
wounds and pain given

who will feel remorse for me?

Written 9, 12 November 1995

U.S. Copyright # Txu 728-358