Tar

Undoing the thread of our own end

That night,
lightning cracked
the charcoal sky...

I smelt soot
while crackling rain
danced over dead leaves,
              an earthen and bloody broil.

The particles popped
frantically like boiling
coming from oil.

I saw a beastly
--look-- in your eye,
crunching little leaves and
terrorforming human will
into the
soil.

Viscous tar
bubbling
from the ends of your
mouth-- you stole
souls
for this devilish endeavor,
hanging from your teeth
once fibrous flesh soiled.

A cry from the wilderness:
fifty trees whistling songs of
@#$%peace#$%!

The howl of death*
The birth pangs of
war,
steam rising from
the leaves deceased--
a hell on Earth.

Undoing the thread
of our own end,
salivating like the rain,
another fight on shared soil,
once fibrous flesh
spoiled.

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Tar, like many of my poems, came from the spur of the moment. Walking around the city of Atlanta at night feeling the light shower of rain over me, I listened to the song “Black Sabbath” on the band’s self-titled album Black Sabbath, where I felt consumed by the music, almost if I were in another world. I rushed quickly back to my apartment because I wanted to capture this feeling, this world. I put the song on repeat, I wrote, and I mulled over this sensation I had in my mind and in my chest. That’s where this poem came from, which evolved to take on some social commentary which is still applicable— even moreso— today. I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for reading Coffee Grounds Publication Co. <3

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