REMONSTRANCE
I've grown so tired of people running backwards and breaking
the things they hold - dreams, hearts and reasons.
Any sensations of trust have long ago been put away,
broken and sundered, stashed in salvage bags
through which old men sort with glee.
-
The camel, that one fitting through the eye of
the needle. No, it's never going to happen.
-
Among my steadfast memories of all life's better things
there's always that picture against the wall, kept in
secret, only occasionally glimpsed:
Me, in an upper window, where I was born.
Down below, a few old fat, round cars, the
big kind like they used to make. In the picture,
I'm already like 12, and wondering why things
tend to fall in circles - dreams, hearts
and reasons too.
I've grown so tired of people running backwards and breaking
the things they hold - dreams, hearts and reasons.
Any sensations of trust have long ago been put away,
broken and sundered, stashed in salvage bags
through which old men sort with glee.
-
The camel, that one fitting through the eye of
the needle. No, it's never going to happen.
-
Among my steadfast memories of all life's better things
there's always that picture against the wall, kept in
secret, only occasionally glimpsed:
Me, in an upper window, where I was born.
Down below, a few old fat, round cars, the
big kind like they used to make. In the picture,
I'm already like 12, and wondering why things
tend to fall in circles - dreams, hearts
and reasons too.
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