For Patti, With Love Like the Love Horseflies Have for Dog Shit Frying on a Summer Sidewalk
How many days and hours of serene violence
can the careening conscience stand?
How bad do you want it? How bad?
Can I finally proceed
After letting the blood bleed?
The spill of forgotten memories
And discarded stares
blank cares
Narcotic
sterile
numb
stares
On the ferry I wrote to avoid talking to you
I was tired of you,
tired of retreating into depressants
and mind numbness just to avoid your blather
and get to your body
You were nothing more than a pastime
And our time has passed
And neither of us really cares.
So why can’t I proceed?
It’s only fiction after all.
After all the tardiness
After all the family bullshit
After all your nonsense I tolerated
After all my craziness you withstood
After all of that
All that is left is an absence of fond memories
And my inability to capture certain
Essences of you in fiction
That is
Until now
Careen! Careen!
Careen I say into that Good Divider
Let the tires screech and scream
in protest of your will
But it will be done. It is done.
Fuck you and good night.
My dreamfiction procession can finally proceed.
The Key
The key, you know, is creating a diversion
Stupid enough to fool yourself.
After that, friend, it’s easy feedings
For the night falls by star and light.
The lips upon which lay so much promise
Of things to be said and meant
impact nothing,
And things in pacts meant to be said are
Lying, crumpled clothing, by the side of the bed.
You reconcile your foster child prison cell
Because you can never blame that asshole.
Fright and radio commercials speak more truth than you -
Let the daily sandbox kicking begin with another shrug.
Uncomfortable skin
the gone
the left
the sated
Simple word sounds are the residual shell
of lost fever and passion.
What a load of crap.
|
|
