And hated everyone and everything worth loving
Recognized everybody we’re ever going to know
With a sideways glance in a dime store trench coat
Memorized all the arrogant words to our country’s anthem
Forgetting how to say “thank you” and “you’re welcome”
Neglected to learn the golden lessons
Shared by the old whore’s toothless hum
Found new enemies easier to make
Than keeping old friends along the way
Become invisible under our own skins
(Within a cubicle is no place to expect miracles
We’ll find God in a sandbox, breathing in the oil that holds us there)
Succumbed to freedom’s aneurysm
Wrist sliced open like a vanilla sky
On a September morning's baptism
Fallen, flailing to the ashen ground
Like a Raggedy Ann doll
Tossed out the mouths of a pair of tall clowns
“Is that a bird?”
“No! It’s a child dropped from God’s hand!”
“Move along, folks. Nothing new to see here.
Move along now. Next stop- Disney Land!”
Died several times over
Our corpse a twisted metal frame
Smoldering at the foot of consumption
Inhaled a snout full of a white, powdery substance
As we lingered a bit too long in the airport terminal
Waiting on our own delayed wings to come in
Waiting to feel them burst through our flesh and bone
Only to run screaming, like a suicide bomber, to the nearest pharmacy
In search of painkillers and a magazine for the long flight home.
© 2008 mrp/tpm
