Luke Navarro Poems

Talons resting on the shoulders of the welcome, talons digging, pulling, tattooing the flesh of the willing, talons kept sharp by the bones of the weak, talons strengthened by the calcium of the freshly deceased.
These talons belong to birds of different feather, birds of the storm, birds of fair weather.
They circle above opportunity waiting for the collapse of others.
They are often mistook for angels by the shadows they cast.
...

Last night I couldn't crawl out of my skin fast enough.
The insects of anxiety were racing under the blanket of flesh that hides me from you.
I was trapped inside of my own head, caged in with the inmates that claim these confines.
thoughts of this, thoughts of that, exploded into a kaleidoscope of memories.
...

Lost under the glow of a nuclear sky.
A sky that hasn't quite fallen yet.
A sky that hangs loosely.
Suspended by the heavens from nothing more than brittle fishing line that we found in God's tackle box.
...

Lately I've been watching death roll in like fog.
I don't see his face but I feel his breath.
It's getting colder at night, and darker in the morning.
So dark I sometimes can't see the sun.
...