Finding hope at the dimming tunnels

Can
            be
                     Illusive

My heart paused when I opened the casket
.
     .                 .
          .        .     .
              .            .
                              .
                                .
                                  .
and saw that you were still dead

A promise of happy ever after was

B           o            e
      R            k              n


            ­                                             Caught
                                          between
                                  fate
                         and
          destiny

I
Clung
To
Those
Scratched
tears
on
the
wall

I would give you the world
Were it not a plague
I would give you my heart
Were it not fading away

I lie


under a black blanket,

suffocating.


curtains are grey,


and a green water is leaking.


I hate a few people,


but I never was half-assed
in my ability to love.

now I'm floating on a ***** river
while you smile at every child that smiles back at you,

as though it's not easy, when
it's a given.

you belonged to the world.

clockwork oranges
kneeling to an apple in the Sahara.

taking a bite out of a ***** pancake in some strip mall

drinking the whole milk
whole.


sighing on afternoons.

cradling a cat in the evening
while spinning a top.


virtual reality
head set
on an infant.

getting up at dawn to feed the worm.


taking out an ad in the newspaper
that never coms around any more.


looking at people in the eye


.

slowly walking away.


tattering this spirt. ----


Into a door that doesn't open

love is just a chemical reaction in the brain,

and *** dolls
are purely silicone.

humans are 90% water,
and 10% carbon.


scratch tickets usually yield bad results.


soda is bad for the kidneys.

exercise hurts the back after prolonged periods.

elderly men are going to die.


young men are going to die.


women are going to die.


this ant is going to die,


and he never knew love

It doesn't matter how many poems you write,
and how amazing they are,
ultimately it's all about context--

who you were, and what you represented in that generation.

were you ugly,
were you fat,
were you poor,
were you rich?

did you eat bacon?

did you brush your teeth?

did you smile at children?

did you watch cartoons?


did you flick your testicles 6 times a day like the dr
reccomened?

were there vitamins?

did your lines read like an old Windows XP?

did your lines cause people to spontaneously combust?

do old people enjoy your work?

do mothers hate you?

do people look away in horror?

do you like any of this?

or was
it all just a waste of time

and something to
do because the sun burns your skin

and the beaches close after 5am