We learned just enough to be little
and find still no escape at all. What
worm is this? In what wood? I’ve met
your enthusiasm, now lost to both of us.
What world is this? In what mood?
I can’t understand anything
despite a close reading
of sunlight across the cracked asphalt
parking lots that now blight every
corner of this country. I know what I know,
which is nothing. Which is slightly more
than nothing, meaning less than nothing
on account of the mirrored delusions
all certainty blinds with. What habits
are these in my manufactured existence?
I’ve leapt from great heights only to discover
the dirt under my sneaks would always
be unimpressed. Accounting tricks can keep us
going but for how long? How many hair ties
in your sock drawer? I am trying very hard
to not care or to care less but. One more penalty
and I’ll be finished. I’ll misunderstand you
on purpose and without mercy. This is the Oracle
of the Grapefruit. Or so we’ve been told. One step
forward, though little else remains. Bring me
a baked oyster or else. Or else what? Line of seagulls
atop a chain link fence. New memories still
unclaimed and aloof out there. We turn every day
from inevitable, but it can only take us so far.
I don’t cope, I escape. Until I can’t. A purpose-driven
startup in pain, financially speaking. What language
is this? What masks to wear to the daily screen?
I found comfort in the warmth
I stole from you and I’ll never give it back.