What acts do we carry?
Tarrying in terrible warriness,
Wearing suits made of half truths
Ballooning into aloof staring contests.
Dragging prom dresses through the muck,
A front for raw messages long stuck
In our cage made of rage, pain
And long days, staying sterile 'til we're barely sane.
Fuck, I hate to say it but I'm not made for this derangement,
Tucking tail and availing patience.
Ingratiating with the same names that snuck
My soul out, hunched my shoulders while I played games.
Roll out the red carpet for your logic's
Loch Ness monster parade;
Partnered party favors that ingrained my caustic Columbine contest;
I'm no martyr.
Farther fields felt a blow delt, deluge
Of death's knells. Smarting from a college
Of costumed catastophes
Growing atrophe costing coat tail tells.
Dwelling deferent, immense, meant to tell you
I smelled sulfur in the sundance.
Underhanded ambivalence, do you think
My sins will melt?
Well enough I guess, belt brandished in hand.
Can't stand the sight of my own mind.
Timing is everything. Understand that
I didn't want this. I'm hidden, haunted.
Vaunted volumes of sugar sweet promises.
In my process, I probably locked away
Lollipops by lollygagging at imaginings
Of magic offered.
Apologies for proffered pardon,
All my jargon and jagged jack-o'-lantern grins;
Armored archivist, sly and somber.
Artist of harbored, hardened spin.
Ardent snack pack brandisher,
Man 'O War demanding more;
Scoffing pox polisher, gawking rock lobster
Sandwiched in outstanding scorn
If I'd never been born, or a whore, would it mean something?
Stunning struggle bubbling, smothering,
Do my deeds leave something other than troublings?
Brother, what's bugging me is I can't shrug my shoulders enough,
Can't lower my delusions and obtuseness
From the rooftops; stop abuses, and just love.
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