leaning over the sink i figured it out
decided at some point i’d make up my mind
the patio creaking i saw pet bones below
the party had ended but nobody told the stereo
the same three discs kept skipping through songs
until a pretty silence at three am
dandruff on his sleeve sparkled in blacklight
each time he blinked the room shifted
he tried not to blink and started crying
people asked him what is wrong
when he said it was nothing
they took his response as secrecy,
he thought:
(i don’t need a flag when i wear it on my tshirt
I don't need a flag when i have one as my tablecloth
swatting flies off the door
sweeping wings abdomen and
thorax into stray beer bottles)
he thought.
a sunrise somewhere will certainly be gorgeous she said
she wants to live where it is always like that
she smiled and went to sleep
had a tiny grin throughout the morning
the television repeated sports results
until even i knew who won
everything is irrelevant
even the dangerous darkness of immigrants
even the high cost of necessities
i didn’t care much for what was
on the mind and tongue of nearby humanity -
urinating in the grass
leaning on a tree,
kick aside a soda can
spill saliva onto a newspaper
an article about atrocities overseas
one kid at the bar lost track of time
he still walks around acting drunk
even in daylight he has his ‘social voice’ going,
knocking on bathroom doors
it is perfectly okay to go inside
no need to knock
there is more than one stall
there is a decently sized mirror.
Chris Bullock
No comments:
Post a Comment