Like Fluid
I will sleep soon.
In this white room with long lights and cold floors
I will fix the sheets and rest my head.
Visual starvation from today's pages
manifest in ways no sage could predict
though the predictions are meaningless if a change's spark is schemeless.
When the earth turns just so, the ground still leaks heat
so we don't freeze in our sheets;
so we can continuously bleed from one organ to another.
Blood flowing and dancing like a father's bride daughter.
It just keeps going and going, until one day it won't.
When her smile fades near a grave and a hole.
Which hole will it un-whole? All the more reason to celebrate
these seasons when shirts are just optional
and friends laugh like cellophane or kernals over flames.
Not colonels in flames, when life isn't just a game.
I can't think of a time when from a laugh I refrained.
and I'll stare down this drain and wonder where it goes.
Follow pipes in my mind to an underground mine
with flowers that grow from the slime, where it's never my time.
I'm not even a star, I just stand on a rock and it rotates around
because gravity is stuck and they say we're all fucked
and we did it ourselves, well the old always say that
when it's their turn for the shelf.
I'll never be up there, a sobering thought.
I open my eyes and look at the clock.
I close them again, wipe an itch from my chin,
rustle the blankets and forget, forget, forgot.
