I.
this breath is like a fucked up puzzle
with pieces spread
mangled and
torn
on a rusted lawn table, the thick
film of
dying white paint
clutching at
stiff shards
o! you are broken
this twisting
escape going in
every direction, with
movement as if it could
see
as if it could
move
move me to throw away
everything i
don't want, but keep in
compounded piles
like dirt beneath fingernails
like this rust on living tables
if there were one sweet
release-
then let me find it
let me find it in
you
II.
ha, you wondered where
the time went
well i'll tell you it
didn't sift
through piles of
sweet revenge
the learned population's
smothering
weak beat,
work bent
smiles
that unfed
core that
rots so clearly
before us
that twinges so nearly relaying that
message:
you are unborn
and as parents we shove you back
to the womb
to cradle your
eyes, from everything we
once
were
becoming lost in
thought is nearly the only
escape
from the twelve-step program you
foster to
kill us before we could
have the chance
to
live.
your silent voice
i read your poem
the one you put in my pocket
and i'm being honest when
i say
i can't tell you
what i thought
i read your poem
with my lazy, sleepy eyes
you told me exactly
how things were
and i felt
nothing
i'm looking for
the poet
whose inner voice catches my heart
by the sleeve, and
pulls me under its
warm coat, on a cold night
i've never had those
sweet moments with you
we can't talk about everything
that ever crossed our minds
i touched your jacket and
brushed your hair from your face,
but i still felt lonely when
you were there
so i sent you a reply,
on a poem i otherwise would have kept
sacred.
the one you put in my pocket
and i'm being honest when
i say
i can't tell you
what i thought
i read your poem
with my lazy, sleepy eyes
you told me exactly
how things were
and i felt
nothing
i'm looking for
the poet
whose inner voice catches my heart
by the sleeve, and
pulls me under its
warm coat, on a cold night
i've never had those
sweet moments with you
we can't talk about everything
that ever crossed our minds
i touched your jacket and
brushed your hair from your face,
but i still felt lonely when
you were there
so i sent you a reply,
on a poem i otherwise would have kept
sacred.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)