Poppycock

she had a backpack
stuffed until bursting
yet carried with ease

shorts and a traumatic expression
(the world is never kind…i keep waiting)
we had the same purpose
a take
a draw a sacrifice

i walked away with her demon
and she walked away with a diet coke
and two orders of fries

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the planet knew how to move

groomed and held above all else,
perfection’s time
foregoing–

we lift ourselves: above the belt,
greedy worlds
that eat the next in line–

that’s how we dine:
one foot
after…another.

~*~

logic loves the tenacity
of proving how right we are!
blooming a perfect shade of green,
the new purple that somehow
believes

fixing something we screwed up in the first place; somhow
makes for a good reason to slap the back
and congratulate fortuity on our brilliance:
shall we give you a medal?

that you finally do what is right,
as soon as the population figured out a way
to make it profitable?

fools.
you know our children are going to starve:
our mistakes falling like grounded angels
to grovel at their feet.

and she said she was proud

holding the guts twisted with baling wire;
finding intensity in bloodless eyes:
a peek of bone–
a glimpse of polished foundations.
(i always felt that worry would get me through)

rock hard underneath all the skin,
the hesitant organ that belongs to faith
and faith alone–

skipping stones.
every other one
poking a finger at the calendar,
and going,
“yep,
it goes around.”

but not the same spot:
never the same reasons!
we make fun–
grant perplexities
to every ambulatory season.

do i seem scattered?
it happens
when your night is alone once again,
and tears don’t cry into a pillow…
no, not here:
they can’t afford to leap to such conclusions,

passed from mother to daughter;
each drop
forsaken,
billowing to greater heights.

sometimes i wish excitement were more human.
sometimes i bleed insanity, and blush distraction,
but i never got used to the anticipation.
the things you told me to be,

and the other things
(all those other things)
that i decided to own,

they are mine now:
skin and bone.
and i think a heart, that beats for the sake of rhythm,
complicates a mind that decided you were right;

you were right all along.

reincarnated to get along

i lived a thousand years,
or maybe it was slightly less….
but i do believe these old bones made it
HERE!
and the one thing–
everything–
the world needs; you
is for that smile, and
that touch, that says we’re friends
as every sibling: bows
to build in haste,

but for whatever reason,
you would rather stand apart
and give me everything i don’t need!

there was a time.
it would have been enough,
but for now:
i just needed all these absolutes to care;

to die within our implications:
a deceptive crooning that explicitly confounds
how to pass, calmly into shadow,
a stricken mask
that never bleeds. (why should tears be such a crimson death?)

the last call that grasps for an:
i love you.
invoking every desperation, (dear god, could we get any more desperate?)
we both speak the bond;
like saying it
means belief!

like the reality isn’t there:
staring at us,
hatred so strong:
enemies

even this time around,

how many times
must we repeat our litany
to make it true?
i love you.

sometimes…..
at least
at the very least
what we have at the bottom of our stinking barrels
are the lies to chew on
the deceit

the poor excuses
to grip in watery teeth

this time around:
sometimes a person feels like they failed for good
i lived a thousand years,
or maybe it was slightly less….

chained to three piles of gold

should i describe the sky?
the ground?
the trees? the mountains?

should i lament my pain?
my past?
the shadows cast
in a convoluted mirror?

should i explore the truth in logic?
the lack of logic in so many truths?
are answers to be found for each desire in all existence?
or is hunger ghostly bound–
forever chained to haunting youth?

today, every cloud smiled:  with glints of heat between their curves,
i was lost for awhile.  holding perfection engraved upon each sorrow,
hurry now and storm your treasured consequence:
beg and borrow,
kiss the last and cover the first;

hold the most,
and leave with nothing

but an aching, ever-delightful thirst.