Week 334 // New Skin

by Mount Everest

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My new skin grows
In the places it's worn away
Tissue paper
In a fresh glowing shade

The war on the edges
Finds its way to the center
Our new skin tears
Like tissue paper

Where goes our innocence?
Hide me down below

God fearing people
With a taste for revenge
Rise in the spring time
Bless the damned and ascend

And I'm just like them
Catch a thought in a lie
Our new skin tears
In the blink of an eye

Where goes our innocence?
Hide me down below

lyrics

I've got a hell of a scrape on my knee from a recent tumble. Pardon me if this is a bit graphic, but I've been fascinated watching it try to repair itself. Little by little, fresh skin is working its way in from the edges, but it's still fragile and tender.

Perhaps my metaphor is blunt, and once again pardon my imagery here, but our discourse is a something like my wound. It's angry and raw, and any little aggravation tears it open anew. What's worse is that we take some delight in picking at it. We can't help it.

The human body is a marvelous mechanism, capable of knitting itself together under unbelievable circumstances. I wonder if the same can be said for our body politic. I'm not sure we've ever taken a tumble quite so bad.

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released April 10, 2017

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Mount Everest Brooklyn, New York

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