Saturday, September 17, 2016

room filled with broken objects



a room filled
with broken objects in
a house
waiting to burn


is this what you dreamt of
as a child?


a man wearing
his funeral shoes and
an insincere smile


an empty bird cage

a sun without heat


any number of
meaningless objects that
add up to the same life
your mother lived and all the
baby does is cry


all the man does
is read the words of
dead south american poets
and pretend to
understand


and the difference betweencold and numb
is a subtle one when
everything you hold falls
through your fingers
to the floor


and the weight of the sky
is brutal
but necessary


you have
spent your life believing
this lie without

question


****

(old stuff from a journal that probably no longer exists)



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