Fountain Grasses And War Crimes Poem by Jacob Wentz

eyes of darkened quartz and skin dotted with freckles like fish
bait in an endless ocean
stumbling around mazes of fountain grass cackling like an old
man
yelling at trees, yelling at yellowed stone, yelling at people with
their morals too spindly and frozen

looking for an out from people with egos too tall running to any
escape with pollen sticking to brown locks like a runaway
groomsman

in any direction any at all can't even hide in a crowd when your
sycamore tall no leaves could hide your face of panne

eyes of darkened quartz and skin dotted with freckles like fish
bait in an endless ocean


heart of tungsten covered in burnt sage swaying with a life
seemingly anything but golden

with veins like vines of ivy and roses poisoned from people
crawling out of a dilapidated trash can

yelling at trees, yelling at yellowed stone, yelling at people with
their morals too spindly and frozen

treading through hallways with trails of apologies and a heart
broken and battered and swollen

caution of peoples stares as if they will notice his stammering
instead of his voice of a courtesan

eyes of darkened quartz and skin dotted with freckles like fish
bait in an endless ocean


A takes instead into hiding away from most people with their
voices of hell and ribbon

poised to get away and tired of waiting for them to realize he isn't
a doormat or a discarded can

yelling at trees, yelling at yellowed stone, yelling at people with
their morals too spindly and frozen

when finally getting away sweeping into himself looking like an
ochre beaded ornate cushion

or a wreath of dandelions stuck in himself stuck away from
people like a jeering tinman

eyes of darkened quartz and skin dotted with freckles like fish
bait in an endless ocean

yelling at trees, yelling at yellowed stone, yelling at people with
their morals too spindly and frozen