Golden Rain
for S.A. Griffin
Van Gogh's jukebox falls on its side,
a headstone in the graveyard
for men who have cared too much.
Its songs bleed like the heart
of an abandoned dog into the fading sky.
Sunflowers bend with saddened kisses,
tears falling like golden rain
for the crazy man who cut--
no slashed--off his earlobe, sacrificed flesh
in a gesture of love, while
Jesus-fawning men of the cloth
and politicians with mouths
yet unwashed by soap fondle young boys
then muzzle their songs
in confessional closets
or bombs bursting in air
never wanted to be there
only way back dead
old men's wars.
Pris Campbell
©2006
Art: Sunflowers by Van Gogh
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