PNEUMATIC THE TENSION
This room is stifling and you drill me like a
drone; tensing muscles in the face of my head.
Outside, the girl with the yellow Kia has left
it running again. If such things would only
ever run out of gas. The serene after-effect
of pleasure makes me wish you'd already left.
I'm too old now for this snarky shit again.
-
I must ask my father once more - why, oh why,
was I born into this mess : poverty and dire
straits, replete with foundational instabilities
and a family of liars and cheats. Detrimental
happiness is nothing so good at all.
-
I wish I was running for office, then at least
I could lie and stammer. As it is, something
in my blood makes me speak the truth, which
always hurts. You jackass. You fool. You
tempermental lout; emphasis on mental.
-
Today I visited the Delaware Water Gap again
and hiked for miles the Appalachian Trail,
looking for a place where I could jump off
and not fail - splatter on rocks, splinter
to pieces on the far down-below. Die
of a million newly broken bones.
No comments:
Post a Comment