You built me out of stones
When you tried
to build a home
Where you could
be alone
And let the way that
the second hand
Took a stand
Against your
superiority complex
Fall off your
skin without leaving a little scar
Because it
would’ve pushed you too far
To admit to me
In the back seat
of your car
That I was worth
something more than
The candy
wrappers
And the
cigarette butts
You kept in the
ash tray on the table of your
Imaginary patio
Next to your
make-believe
Romanticism
And eclecticism
That you pride
yourself on
It seemed to me
that your favorite time of day was 13 o’clock
And all of the
remnants of tomorrow could have been mistaken for now.
Fucking and
having sex in order to pretend we don’t make love
Our freedom
quaked until morning was etched all over your face
And the zodiac
could be tattooed on your palm.
There’s a
light-up line on the floor
To keep score
Of the path I
take
And all the
times I break
The windows I’m
supposed to clean
Or make a scene
About something
too esoteric for remedy
And not quite
esoteric enough for philosophy
Without
discrepancies, I wondered when you’d run to the top
Of the local
mountainous oceanic meadow
And do one of
two things:
You could have
poured the clouds in my eyes
And watched the
way I looked before you
Or
With the same
wistful serendipity you could build a hundred little shops
With big striped
tops
And melted me
into your mouth
And kept me
there for the rest of the year.
I wouldn’t hear
Of any other
maniacal flirtations
On behalf of the
sound of my heels on cobblestone in the rain
It hasn’t
stopped you from reading
Or feeding
My addiction
To perfection
And
disappointment
It’s a roman
candle
Before I fly off
the handle
And requite the
unrequited
Until you smite
me into oblivion.
I love to kiss
your mouth when you swear
Or say you care
With lips like
water
Is it getting
hotter
In here or is
that just me?
You see, I see
the millions of starstruck fireworks to the west
All the rest
To the test
Until my tongue
is hung like the jim crow lynching
Until musical
squares become circles
And we both fall
off the edge of the world.
I can taste her
name on all the musical notes
That you wrote
And transposed
into a different key
So it could be
Okay for me
Without me
knowing it was all wrong
It’s not my song
It wasn’t all along
You wouldn’t
have said anything
If I hadn’t said
it first
I’m not as naïve
as you think.
I left the
dishes in the sink
Because I break
all the bowls I hold
And I can’t do
what I’m told
And I haven’t
forgotten that I’m getting old
And cold
Freezing
Truthfully, I
love it when you prove yourself
Or mark the
calendar
Of my health
And don’t
remember
You kissed my
swaying and rocking reservoir of pebbles that drop in the lake
Until you take
Me back.
I sleep naked in
your sweatshirts and pretend that they’re your arms.
No harm
Or meretricious
mendacity
Because it’s
redolent around the garden
Where I locked a
key
Under a tree
Inside
You have to get
in to get in
I’ll call you,
laying next to you, to ask you on a date.
You feel like a
thousand miles above the ocean where the air is soft and I’m held aloft by the
scintillating sound of your voice.
They say
Or breathing
Like I’m running
out of days
Because I’ve got
one of those feelings
That set me to
reeling
About the state
of the world that I’m in
It shouldn’t be
a sin
To forget your
kin
And leave them
behind for some sunny days
Far away
With an empty
tank of gas
And a forgotten
element of class
When we sleep
under the bridge
But still make
it for breakfast at Tiffany’s
And scrub the
dirt from our nails
Just to put on
our diamond rings
It doesn’t
matter that we stole them
From the mother
hen
Whose children
will attend the ivy schools
And make fools
Of the price of
private education
When they’re
working at the train station
In a couple
thousand years
Reminiscing on the
days when we used to walk
And talk.
Who gives a fuck
about the little fucks you’ve lost and all the left over fucks you’ve still got?
I fucking don’t.
I actually do,
but not in front of anyone else.
No comments:
Post a Comment