beau blood rush
01/05/10, 12:49 AM
so you know i’ma six speed.
stuck in first.
& the sleep walkers know
it’s just their bodies tellin’ ‘em to find some place else to go.
some how we confused the inevitability of time with what made us tick.
so we never changed.
& we came home to our graves, earlier today.
----------------------------------------------------------
i got a chest like a chapel of casual visits.
& i’ve learned love is only like an umbrella between us & a thunder storm.
- a dark wood of creature comforts.
& a long, long way home.
some how the non-believers still rot six feet under.
while some boys babble of something like poetry in parrot-fashion.
oh, did you hear?
i parleyed with my second persona..
we’re sort of back together.
we’re sort of ‘forever’
& there’s trophy wives flashing golden bands in the cabinets of their husbands hands.
studying the ebb & flow of their bedside monitors.
they ‘tap tap tap’ on the screens like fish tanks.
till they crack.
--------------------------------------
laid beneath a moon, that knows how ta' sing the blues.
an unpublished author of a billet deux.
with nobody too send it to.
his heads just a sack race alone.
he took the heavy steps home.
till his feet scolded on the sunburned asphalt.
no one to tell, all his promises are to himself,
he likes to pretend that his own testimonials count.
the other kids know.
& make fun.
like to throw stones.
& draw blood.
but one day he’ll storm.
so bright the boys blind & the skies will roar.
& split like a deers neck in a lions maw.
but only in the way they’re now nothing,
but the taxidermic mantelpiece
on
my
wall.
-------------------------
some things never change.
he came home to his grave, earlier today.
stuck in first.
& the sleep walkers know
it’s just their bodies tellin’ ‘em to find some place else to go.
some how we confused the inevitability of time with what made us tick.
so we never changed.
& we came home to our graves, earlier today.
----------------------------------------------------------
i got a chest like a chapel of casual visits.
& i’ve learned love is only like an umbrella between us & a thunder storm.
- a dark wood of creature comforts.
& a long, long way home.
some how the non-believers still rot six feet under.
while some boys babble of something like poetry in parrot-fashion.
oh, did you hear?
i parleyed with my second persona..
we’re sort of back together.
we’re sort of ‘forever’
& there’s trophy wives flashing golden bands in the cabinets of their husbands hands.
studying the ebb & flow of their bedside monitors.
they ‘tap tap tap’ on the screens like fish tanks.
till they crack.
--------------------------------------
laid beneath a moon, that knows how ta' sing the blues.
an unpublished author of a billet deux.
with nobody too send it to.
his heads just a sack race alone.
he took the heavy steps home.
till his feet scolded on the sunburned asphalt.
no one to tell, all his promises are to himself,
he likes to pretend that his own testimonials count.
the other kids know.
& make fun.
like to throw stones.
& draw blood.
but one day he’ll storm.
so bright the boys blind & the skies will roar.
& split like a deers neck in a lions maw.
but only in the way they’re now nothing,
but the taxidermic mantelpiece
on
my
wall.
-------------------------
some things never change.
he came home to his grave, earlier today.