Plague Poems
Mark LANEGAN
& Wesley EISOLD
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Plague Poems (Heartworm Press) is a collection of 23 poems written by LANEGAN and EISOLD between February and March 2020; a number of works from the book—selected by the authors themselves—can be found below.
HARPOONED
AIRPLANES ARE HEAVIER THAN
THEY USED TO BE
Wesley EISOLD
REDEMPTION DAY DELAYED
Mark LANEGAN
TIRE DAMAGE
Wesley Eisold
CRONOS ON A TRAIN
Mark LANEGAN
SUBCULTURE
Wesley EISOLD
PRISON FOOD
Mark LANEGAN
NEVERENDING (MARCH 17, 2020)
Burning death incense
in the Nepalese censer you gifted me
from the home you shared with H/er
and there is no sky any more
Today is the day your bodies will sleep
in the ground like the bed
from the land you share with H/er
and there is no why any more
Living together
loving Forever
united at last
Wesley EISOLD
One jagged piece
of dog’s chewing bone
hidden in the blue green grass
Mark LANEGAN
Cut my knee all the way down
to expose a piece of my own skeleton
The sun has gone and turned to ice
the hive has died down
to a colony of one
And compelled to sit through the screaming tedium
of yet one more pointless mass
my mind forcing mouth to keep itself shut
As silent as this dusty tomb
this circus wants me buried in
But not before I’m home from sea
have paid my dues
and once again
have learned my lesson
To love is to be harpooned
to love is to be eviscerated
to love is to lose your mind and heart
to love is to search in vain for heaven
AIRPLANES ARE HEAVIER THAN
THEY USED TO BE
Airplanes are heavier than they used to be
when once they were a vehicle from
a hangover to a next
to scream a little about love
and a lot about death
now they are Christ like
in their way of denouncing
you to any one
with a prayer to be saved
and a song still unsung
I cry in the beauty
parallel with the sun
imagining all I have
in you at home
why go anywhere any more?
I don’t know!
It’s just this strange pull to survive
by going high for my lows
Wesley EISOLD
REDEMPTION DAY DELAYED
Some chemicals have been mixed and bleed the naked
springtime trees
I stand beneath a radiated rain of dead and fallen gods
The animals run
the birds in panic
fly for shelter
where will the children play
in this last dark hotel lobby
I sit up at the bar
a waitress sweet as Mexican candy
I haven’t even got the heart
to tell these people what is coming
Strawberries
blueberries
and cherries overgrown
Strawberries
blueberries
and choke cherries overgrown
The chemicals have been mixed and bleed the naked
springtime trees
I stand beneath the radiated reign of some ancient and
sadistic gods
Mark LANEGAN
TIRE DAMAGE
When you tire of the damage
and the car crash of your heart
I will be there like a roadside mechanic
who can repair anything
except themselves
Wesley Eisold
CRONOS ON A TRAIN
Cronos in the first class car of a European train
drinking sweet, sweet pink champagne
and blue-hairs drink their tea
Fields of beautiful young lovers
mowed down like swathes of of summer hay
the devil as a two horned goat
with cobra in his overcoat
has me overcome by the unending ache
to sleep until I don’t wake up
Cronos in a private room in the sleeping car
running parallel to the Italian shore
all the people here I used to love
visit in my restless, somnambulistic
and exhausted nighttime hours
and ask me where was I?
Where was I
when they most needed me?
And remind me that my memories
Are just another night of smoking cigarettes
and staring at the shadows of
a moving landscape
out of a window quietly weeping
Mark LANEGAN
SUBCULTURE
In Manchester
the year 2001
someone bought me a
New Order shirt for
putting a hairball
off of the street
in my mouth
Yet only you have left
a bad taste
in my mouth
Wesley EISOLD
PRISON FOOD
The pocketful of cigarette butts
the piss bottle
the tarp
and spoon
A wake
of dusky black vultures
feed on the carcass of someone’s
beloved pet chihuahua
flap their wings and hiss
no need to get bent out of shape, bad boys
These dinosaurs are like convicts guarding their spread
as though I’d eat from that bowl of shit you call food,
assholes
Mark LANEGAN
NEVERENDING (MARCH 17, 2020)
Burning death incense
in the Nepalese censer you gifted me
from the home you shared with H/er
and there is no sky any more
Today is the day your bodies will sleep
in the ground like the bed
from the land you share with H/er
and there is no why any more
Living together
loving Forever
united at last
Wesley EISOLD
Mark LANEGAN is the author of I Am The Wolf: Lyrics and Writings (Hachette Books, 2017) and Sing Backwards and Weep: A Memoir (White Rabbit, 2020); Wesley EISOLD is the author of Deathbeds and Thieves Of Youth. Both LANEGAN and EISOLD have released countless albums in various projects.