my heart is beating
sweeping arpeggios
like i was 16
and clowns are
rushing through my
limbs and brain
but i am wide awake
and aware that
four years difference
is sobering at best,
and behind the laughs
of the clowns there
are drunks and whores,
and behind the arpeggios
there are veins.
Day: January 12, 2009
Stool pigeon
poetryWalking through each other’s dreams,
The tattered streets will let you know I was there
first
No matter how hard he tries
He cannot see himself as real as you do you
You and your pure mornings
The heavens will not call out for you
Do you think crows dream about the color of their feathers ?
The immigrant’s dream sits on your front porch
hopeful
Your smile brings tidings of a victory
for a moment he feels like he can bask in the glow of
your sweet delusions
Like a sudden powerful jolt
he feels his youth
millions of little fireworks shooting through his veins
all his tomorrows pigmented with soft pastels
He would like to stay there with you
but, it is only a beautiful lie
Fie!
poetryFie! Fie!
Unmask the short injustices you’ve come to find
Fie! Fie!
Show the world the lies that it has got behind!
Fie! Fie!
Fall with the house of Usher, Die with Mr. Poe
Fie!
Even if it changed anything,
we’d never know.
the sieve and the sand 