the gates of Heaven are shot to Hell

Gates of Heaven
the gates of Heaven are shot to Hell
by Halifax

at each others throat

it’s hard to tell someone
they’re being judgmental
without sounding judgmental


say what you want about words
each came as a gift crammed in
regifted right back in reflex

the hammer falls in an ear
and bong the echo runs through
clear as an anvil back out again

sound itself leaves impressions
a bit of grit stamped between
leaving matching pits on both

voice shining off those divots
means more to me than any pattern
however hard it is ignoring sense


consonants cut off vowels
division is their gospel
preached by a vocal minority
of followers in the fold

sworn together forever
they bring the house down
making sweet sweet noise
to share misunderstanding


even written down
the things they create
tear apart reason

nouns are conniving,
guilty of unspeakable
thoughtless actions

verbs preface whodunnits
under an assumed name
conspiring with nouns
to frame agreement

choosing the right one
would be unnecessary if you
well, you know what I mean


decide for me common terms
there have to be some somewhere
that go with everything I intend
say them at me so I receive it
I’ll return them to you used
cleaned but tailor fit to me

if you know I’m wrong before I do
explain a way to fix it beforehand

I will misunderstand you
in the best possible light

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