New Poetry by M.M Dillinger

Gronk Day

Awake late afternoons rise
A child born to ash and sticky kitchen counter
Neighbourhood moons strike fear
Into moth balled machines of system
Their children’s children commit the offence
And no one can cheer rising leaves
Water flowing through broken drainpipes
It’s a Gronks day

The Gronk is awake
Late afternoon riser
To rinse his chest with rusty air
To keep his arms or neck or organs free
From rapid power of god
To live and die in his sight
Is sin
And to walk towards gods god
Is righteous

The Gronk masturbates and plays god like god intended
And rises to the afternoon summer sun
Like a god allowing we to talk and command
Gronk living is as god intended, did he not?
Through scattered shadow window shades paint
On worn carpet and dusty air
One cigarette can fix a thousand years
Dreamt in screaming tone
Please, help young man

Young Gronk opens his eyes to himself each day
And sees his masculinity behind him
Wanting him
Wanting death upon him, is it truly god?
If one's most powerful action is suicide,
Is anyone god, do we know anyone is god
Until they prove death to themselves
I believe Gronk knows
His skin shows meth bites and crack scratches

His breath enters his apartment like a demon invading a graveyard
You may understand it is unpleasant
And it hurts to breathe now
But what does that matter
As long as Gronk makes it through his hallway
He can stay alive another day
Another day he can prove there is no god,
And prove there is,
In all Gronk glory.

His love lays motionless on a secondhand couch
Thank you to the ruler written in fire
For our bountiful meals,
Thought within Gronk's infinite wisdom
All gods, he thought, were united through, this these
Objects seen by men and women
Awake in a late summers Smokey afternoon sun
Her bosom planted distracted god from Gronk
And he was free

A free man is one to which none understand
Because he does not have to live truth or lie
He comprehends and confuses
He comes and goes
And poetically worries for present only
As past and future are god's domains
And he, after all
Is just a gronk's remains.


- M.M Dillinger 2019

M.M Dillinger is a young writer from Western Sydney, Australia, currently writing my first book and collection of poetry.