Blood streams from within

out of the screams of a day,
out of the mishaps of yesterday
there goes what makes the loudest noise.
the steering of hoaxes,
the wheeling of secrets,
strong wrinkles in timed spaces.
they claim to control the sunset
the voices inside our heads
the tearing up of our bones
after each, as soon as they preach
they claim,  they teach.
Long Island in new coconuts,
sad songs in these chapters.
we have heard you in unison
the wailing of the ‘undead’,
we only choose when to join
for these tunes are overwhelming.

Ruddapoet