Friday, December 4, 2009

639. MY CLOTH BUTTONS

MY CLOTH BUTTONS
I couldn't save you so therefore
wouldn't try. What's the use anyway?
Boy Scout motto, triage, all the rest.
Why couldn't I just die when the flag went
down, watching my father melt away, in
his flames, to nothing? It's all a muddle,
in a paradoxical way - the same manner
in which floods and disasters
destroy houses and homes.
-
The last I knew, the lights were
going out around town everywhere.
-
Up the flagpole some girl ran her
pants while, down below, in
a staggered heap, she sat
in an alcoholic stew,
drunk as a pig and
liking it too.
-
If these aren't the
Dark Ages yet,
I'd hate to
see the
light.

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