songs 32-34
by David Harrison Horton
A Song of the Hollow Earth
The armchair smells of cats
and the deceased,
a familiarity
that brings no comfort.
The camps are closed
and the shelters are full.
This song is an old song
that was old the day it was written.
Her Nazi eyes flashed empty
in the grainy textbook photo.
Jorge played a beat up
Mexican guitar
that never stayed in tune,
but held notes forever.
A Song of Roland’s Sadness
The glass octopus floats
in the beauty
that is the ocean.
In this, decisions are made.
Her handbag matches her eyes.
She looks exquisite,
the very image
of the image of care.
Keep a kind word in storage
to give out when someone really needs it.
He made sandwiches
to last his coast-to-coast trip
across America.
They were eaten half way.
A Song of Cottonmouth Snakes
Like children looking
for a permission
that will never be given,
we align with our institutions.
A bicycle rusts
from disuse,
just like the avant-garde
of the 18th century.
Game theory only works
if you accept many things a priori.
The corner busker
will not sing the blues,
but knows this ditty:
No justice, no peace ….
Photo of David Harrison Horton
BIO: David Harrison Horton is a Beijing-based writer, artist, editor and curator. He is author of Maze Poems (Arteidolia, 2022) and Necessary (forthcoming from Downingfield Press in 2025). His latest chap, Model Answer, was released by CCCP Chapbooks/subpress in 2024. His work has recently appeared in The Belfast Review, Roi Fainéant, Verbal Art and Yolk, among others. He edits the poetry zine SAGINAW. davidharrisonhorton.com