Circle & Two other new Poems by Justin Rogers


the blast radius of a hellfire missile
fired from a predator drone
can be measured by man

an undeniable

in our killing fields of hellfire
children are known to be children

the colors that were once their laughter
now bleed a storm of tears

a wave of evil
radiates from our fields of hellfire
rending the fabric of life
screaming the skies


with mask affixed and props at hand
i pace off my lofty void

bottles for balance
pipes loaded and ready to draw
blast off the face of reality

far below the whirl of blurred black rose colored thoughts
smoked special effect stunts
and pixie dust emotions of the highwire
are the spectators
reveling in debauchery
muting the pleas of the innocents
who beg for dawn

while pharmaclowns frighteningly unfunny
cycle aimlessly among jugglers drowning in dropped lives
who stagger past fire eating wraiths
and knife throwers hitting veins
all hoping that some anything
will balm their demons’ screams
in this mindless maze of layered lies
so twisted that means begin with no end
stop means more
and enough
is never enough

i perform in ether
a wreck of an actor
scamming the highwire
hiding behind the mask props bottles pipes pills and powders
numb for the fall


too cold for cover
migraine conch dance
wearing only beret
green doesn’t live here
butterflyes on terror list
watch the watch
sunlight kills
death to orange
delirium slobber howl truth serum
eat toothpaste
chant for clean
please don’t spray me
please don’t spray me again

Justin Rogers might be found near normal; bits of his poetry are scattered about.
Justin Rogers might be found near normal; bits of his poetry are scattered about.

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