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thoughts #2
OKcomputer

I must be really old fashioned because
 1
these kids live in their underwear while I live in my sweatsuits.
 2
My dog is scratching at the door and her claws are breaking, her fingers are bleeding
 3
and I am not allowed to open the door.
 4
Where is the justice I was promised to have?
 5
In sheets of newspaper beneath my bed sheets,
 6
I see nothing, hear nothing more than I'm dealt privately.
 7
And in the privacy of my father's house I am dealt no justice.
 8
Where more is this heaven I've been seeking?
 9
I've climbed as high as the stars so far and I'm seeing no more than I'm feeling.
 10
Where are the artists, the scholars I've been promised to meet?
 11
I see them not here, and I know not where else to seek.
 12
One minute is a square wheel that will not get on faster
 13
even if I push against the wall of it with each one of my chakra stones.
 14
Don't know which lever to pull. Both the same color, both the same girth, both the same tool to piss with.
 15
 
 
But enough with my troubles. I ask the beings between the molecules:
 16
What is the next thing that I should be?
 17
And they tell me, great hero, great scholar, great queen.
 18
You are the one they are anxious to meet.
 19
And I reply, fuck you!
 20
 
 
Were I a genius among them and a captain of heathens,
 21
would it be lousy? It'd be crooked.
 22
Or is it the right way to give in to the absurdity of the words,
 23
to allow myself to go blazing mad.
 24
Burning through life like a cigarette. Lit by hormones.
 25
Hormones to push the pus to the surface of my ruddied mug.
 26
Candles in my ears burning. Earwigs who creep in deep.
 27
Make families in there. Invite mosquitoes to shove their knife lips
 28
in through my skin.
 29
 
 
If the red hot lover boy calls, I will tell him,
 30
I am reading about physiology.
 31
and he'll run far away, far into the hot white sun
 32
to be away from me
 33
like all them other ones.
 34

28 Jul 08

Rated 10 (10) by 1 users.
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Comments:

i think it was how your underwear showed when you bent over to fix the pipes that inspired the kids to sag on life. just like the way some poet in some book you were forced to read once for a class inspired you to pretend to write a poem.

you make us -- old people -- sound like we have to apologize for seeing and hearing and feeling at all, when you know we know how to see now, now how to listen -- aren't drowning in our language anymore -- and have something real to say to any young person genius enough to pay attention.
 — joey

you know i really like you joey
 — OKcomputer

well, i'll give you another ten then, but i'll have to sign off and post it using my "verun" persona :)
 — joey

here's another 10 by virtue of the fact that
i hang loose and am dead like free space
in the disk that sliced my head in more ways
than infinite.

my fingers are tomatoes ready for slicing by
whoever has the bread knife.

they ask questions like "what's the difference
between butter and cheese?".
: )
 — fractalcore

my point is: i don't know.

never will.
: )
 — fractalcore

darn, another found shit for a poem.



THE DIGITS OF YOUR FINGERS END FEAT
fractalcore

here's another 10 by virtue of the fact that
i hang loose and am dead like free space
in the disk that sliced my head in more ways
than infinite.

my fingers are tomatoes ready for slicing by
whoever has the bread knife.

they ask questions like "what's the difference
between butter and cheese?".


my point is: i don't know.

never will.



written 08/02/08
http://poetrycritic al.net/read/49941/
thanks, OKcomputer.
: )
 — fractalcore

f i ever sawr yo, i'd be stuck dead between two moments, i'd see it in your eyes, you are a surgeon of the mind
 — OKcomputer

: )
 — fractalcore

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