September 6, 1901

from by Dead Languages

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On the day my city burns, I will sift through the ashes,
picking up small shards of glass as the National Guard convoy passes.
I will rise to my feet, and shift my gaze towards the street, and see you standing.

I grew up half an hour north from where Czolgosz shot McKinley.
September 6th, 1901. Two bullets to the belly.
and I am thankful for the mall erected in his name, and the statue (high school).

My great great grandfather worked hauling grain along the river.
Now this city hungers and I have nothing to give her,
save a few kind words, and a rare ocean bird (, and a song like this one.

On the day my city burns, I will stand out on the break water,
watching black smoke fill the air and cover up the slaughter,
and I will call out your name, but my voice won't sound the same,

and they won't hear me.


from Guns Out, released March 21, 2014



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