On Drill Hall Walls

" On Drill Hall Walls "

by Suzán Jiván
Mom & Mom-
Mom Suzán


On drill hall walls
stand ins
for pornographic
bits


discovered napping
in trappings
of scabrous
life casts


Old Masters
on the cusp
of barely there
"Who Cares?"


grabbing handfuls
of hard-to-imagine
smashed flasks of mead


as not-so-happy
apple-cheeked
combatants
toss Molotov
cocktails


loaded with codified
meanings
of incendiary motifs


severed heads
re-invent themselves
as self-erected
talking heads


stripped of anecdote
and sentiment
in the midst
of a slip


tendered as texts
of disturbing
tightrope treks


with the unwillingness
of the invisibility
filtered by still lives
of gilt lilies


in decomposition
come to whisper
as placated flames
of embers of irritation


shivering down the spine
naked to the waist
with a curved breastplate


inappropriately pervasive
as claimed chaos
forged in chains
of displaced manifestations


bereaved of nature
like alchemous civilizations
opposed to arcane reawakenings
spangling with the sacredness
of star-dusted divination...