Animal Bars We go to secret animal bars in the soft twilight. To wash away the sins of love left resting on her smooth hips. We swallow dreams that are thick as honey and as bitter as oak. We hold onto barstools and onto backsides, like the ends of ropes and ledges. The blood moon glows crimson, full of shadow and gloom, casting orange light against the snow falling into the mountainous night. The roar of laughter, like the lions in the heat of pride, echoes bouncing down the alley, from brick to brick. I hang my head low in the fog. Sweat like the geniuses of broken bottle loneliness that we are. In secret animal bars, in leashes that move, from hand to mouth. Like coming to the guitar whine dirges, as these barebacked dancers move enthralling, down tin canned hallways. And come to ,exhausted, thrilled in the graceful heartaches. Scream the night down, into the puddled sidewalk, splashing, grinning ,a thousand forests wide
On Love At The Eve Of War That first night that first time I saw you dressed, Wrapped in the fineries of a woman I knew I would.... My tight chest slow breath feeling that you won't love me like I do you.... but the warm knowing that you do... That closed eye rush when lips part and meet skin. That growing need for more of you, and the embarrassment that goes with having to admit as much... That feeling that I will burn my flame brighter and hotter and faster until it goes out for you... That one day you will look at me and smile. I'll take that smile and fly across the sea on it. Because it might be the last I see of it... Like soot boot refugees running down a dust paved road to laugh again and to cry again together.... To breathe air together again I have to feel your arms around me,feel the warm sun on soft sheets again Until then let's cause revolutions with our love and let's cause bombs to lie dormant on battlefields with it... Let's put put flowers in rifle barrels, and all the other cliche'd things. Laugh away the murderous snake of man, Make love as it eats itself and starves. Let's leave it dried to a crisp, So it's shadow never covers the sun. And pay it no mind as it cries in its loneliness. Let's make soldiers lay down arms by the shorelines and give them a moment to be human again... Let's shout it from megaphones in front of god and country to see and let's burn the ticker tape excitement in front of war torn flags.. And we say that you should do the same
Filth In here no one cares for your name. No one cares where you have been, and no one cares where you're going. In here no one cares how much you drink or what drugs are on your list. In here no one cares whose hands have been in your skin. In here you are not good enough. In here they will find out, and it's immeasurable, the joy they will find in it. In here the boxes line the wall, the piles of clothes move with the mold and the mildew from corner to corner. Here is where we peel the layers of hair and dirt off of the play doh to feel it crack and turn to dust between our fingers. Here is where mountains of dishes stay in the sink, the water turns brown and the maggot husks line the plates before they get thrown against the walls. Here, there is a hole in the hallway floor that rats use in winter to come chew the thin dark brown paneling and make nests at midnight in the bath. Here we move dirty laundry from the shower to be able to wash our skin but no one gets clean enough. Here is where we bury things in piles of filth
Dan Rouse is a poet, spoken word performer, and artist from Appalachia. He draws inspiration from real life experiences and embellishes them for emphasis. He writes in the hope that his words may comfort, reflect and inspire the reader to create their own life, in their own words.
Dan’s first book is The Hollow and Other Poems.