5.23.2009

We'll never leave the asterisk class.

When I was a kid
my mother would remind me
that 'hate' is a strong word.
Although she was right
she failed to mention
that sometimes it's
not strong enough
especially in regards
to what one feels towards
the alarm clock.

There's a nasty bruise on my knee
and I don't know how it got there.
I can tell you right now
that it wasn't from praying.
God gave up on us a long time
before we gave up on Him.
Pass the rum jug, brother.

But somewhere in the darkness of my driveway
was a breathing diamond ablaze
unencumbered by the limits of modern-day smelting.
I pictured us at thirty, forty, if we live that long, fifty.

And until the cockroaches take their rightful place
he'll never change.



Currently reading:
"From Hand To Mouth" by Fitz-James O'Brien.

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