Wavelengths

This contusion-colored evening
 maybe you paint the silhouette
 of the gaunt tree line singed in '97
 when wildfires threatened my development
 and the swallowed towns the Klan had founded
 the shaded sand dens were party caverns
 for them who'd come hallucinate while we slept
 scaring our rabbits to death in their hutches
 can't remember how I used to live
 but they've all cased their jumps
 fatally I willed it to be
 in the hours of blankness preceding sleep
 oh the years we waste faking remorse
 every decision I have ever made
 bred the branching future's mute howlers
 with burst-vessel red eyes
 roaring inaudibly
 on the freezing morning walk to the dim corner grocery
 what hangs over big empty country
 reborn in negatives of photos of dusk
 regret so huge it's on a phantom axis
 receding beaches hissing hearing damage
 and the miles-long column of cold moonlight cast across
 still seas when my nose begins to bleed
 some submitted to having their lights put out
 by basement thrill killers
 in the neighborhood I heard being murdered is no experience
 ten or eleven wounds
 in it's not about Satan or anything you just die
 it's weird