Fate and the Passage of Time
Summer's sentence is followed by the paragraph
Of autumn, an itch it can't scratch. The floor's
Caving in. Soon the ceiling gets depressed
To compensate. News finally arrives. "Bugs and eskimos
Don't have it any worse than those in White Plains."
But we're out in hopes of making it back from
Our mailboxes in time for our favorite commercials.
You think I'm kidding?! See for yourself, man the
Lookout post for me. Stand on the inside of the door
While I try out my new key. I'll owe you one.
I'll make up for it by turning the treble and bass
Up all the way so only the middle ranges will
Be denied the vote. They, like the thoughts that
Protect me from the feelings they become (as the suburbs
protect me from the city I have to pass through
to make it to the forest by fall), have had their day
In the sun long enough. Maybe it's time for the time
That doesn't have to untangle us to be here, the test
We can only pass if we waste no time thinking we can
Study for it. Nowhere to go but down where I'll wish
Your arms were safety nets to fall into from the burning
Building of your eyes (that I only went back to in hopes
of rescuing the rare-stamp collection disguised as our child).
Tearing open the formletter, debating whether it's junkmail,
We reached the scene of the climb, the peak in the middle
Of the slope and retraced our steps like a landslide.
Love couldn't come gently anymore. Drastic measures
Were needed: bombs, lawsuits, things slipped in our drinks.
O Checkmate me without even bothering to take my Queen
And see what little effect that has on the help
The news you bring cries for like cars stopped for redlights
(still but polluting just as much as if they were speeding).
And just as one must fall from the womb to the tomb
To fall out of reason into love, the lights will never change.
We have the vandals to blame or thank for that. I might
As well recall them, put the plant on hold, and start from scratch.
No comments:
Post a Comment