Icarus's blog: "Just South of Blue."

If I could write you a song about the green vales
dotted faintly with columbine and dandelion
with warm fingertips of sun brushing against the grass-

My soul would sing you an anthem
Chorus a hymn
March to a rally
Harmonize in rapture
Instead I belch a hollow dirge

Mourning the rags that wrap the cankers and bile
Clinging to the bones
grinding on bones.
With an unctuous rotten pump for a heart,
writhing only in defiance
hopelorne and full of a chill, bitter vitriol
beyond the grip of reason, power, and purpose.