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