June 2009
somehow I knew it isn’t real it is nightime and I am hesitant to dance with the paper lanterns out on the streets, outside my bedroom window I was sure it wasn’t real something held me back when will I ever leave?
glass box born inside smelly markers drawing over the lines the marks fade away with old calendars
pick and choose lifestyle scenario heartfelt working man’s glory, or rich man’s lonely story alas, we all have second thoughts
not really
mindless robots cramped cubicles detached? all too human
do you fear my eyes as much as I fear yours? we could have friends you and I, no? eat or be eaten who could ask for more
beautiful as they come angels are cruel in nature naturally, being so high up they’re bound to look down on you if ever
you smell of almost nothing why must I remember so vividly? I get so near yet you are still but a ghost
they died then we fucked it up all over
mother knew that her children would cry
so she gave them muscle,
skin, and smiles
to cover up the their bony
cold interior
it’s that man who beat you to sleep last night
the man you crawled back to this morning
it’s the woman that took my diamonds and ran off
the woman I will chase till the day I fall asleep
it’s an age of glamor
every door I open
it’s the same glossy finish
for every story of supposedly every person
everyone gets their face shot
make up and all
the world is just islands
it gave us weak arms and legs
and left us no wood for boats
stay where you are and bathe in it
you are right kurt
indeed
not even the creator of the universe
can fully control everything or everyone
they just wander around the line called fate
trapped in it’s invisible boundaries
electrons are negatively charged
yeah sure i’ll miss every one of you scumbags but that sure as hell doesn’t mean anything’s changed
stealing something
the moment I showed them I knew I was stealing your home on display is living in it too the robbed possess nothing to show for the crime committed empty pockets with no deeds to the house they are fated to live in
in a cozy home, nothing to whine about I was reading my text book and I saw him, the little eskimo boy he was smiling at the time the photograph was taken it makes me cold to think where is he now?
such brave people
it’s quite possible to build around all these trees and even so all the men and women grabbed their shovels and began digging searching for the roots
