Sam Silva



The Illness



Sweetly sick

horns and violins

bleed to a crescendo


...that Mahler piece I saved

to the music box software

milks and bathes

contentment in my idiot mind


during the soft

lamplight of a computer midnight


till the soprano screams high pitched

the vocal part as climax.


And at least since our modern beginnings

of iron bread and steam


there has always been a time

among the neo nazis

who surround History's carriage


for one or another

collective mental illness

born of a decadent spirit


to burn alive with nothing

but the facts


of iron bread and money


and eat well

and drink well


and blow the world apart

in the cup of such fermentation.



Sam Silva © 2015