Blood on Canvas

Blood on Canvas 

threw everything I had 

against a wall 

few things I could catch 

the rest I let fall

carrying around on my back 

a lot of junk

few pieces I’ve got 

have become inseparable 

wad of papers in my pocket

note from a friend 

verses written on a paycheck

coins not thrown in a fountain

throwing everything I have 

against a wall

pieces shatter

into crystal 

salmon consents to be eaten

oak tree signs the waiver

carrot smiles as it’s bitten 

climate agrees to more changes

money luxuriates in its dirtiness 

a future’s written in cursive 

on a brick wall by an anarchist

with a pink gel pen