frosty_gurl02
01-29-2004, 09:34 AM
It’s a haze
A deliberate dream
And here I am, a walking tree.
Love and hate.
The devil,
God, I don’t know which turn to take.
Let me ask
The third chimpanzee.
I wish I had a sword, not a real one, but an imaginary one so I could swing and nip strangers as they walk by, let them bleed as I do, early morning as trembling fingers reach up to lock the door. Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen sink. I think I am so much smarter, but I’m not. Can barely hold my leg steady under the weight. And the billboards are right, no one wants to be a fat guy, except maybe the actual fat guy. He’s proud, he is jubilant, he is steering his car past another drive-through window. We are hungry, there is no changing that.
I want to take the bus headed for Lavender Loop. Such a pretty word, take me to a prettier world. Lavender Loop, like linen spray, I can stretch, inhale and go back to sleep.
But I am here, on the train, teetering over this bridge, city lights splattered like freckles on the earths black shoulder. The same girl stares at me, several seats over in her scarf and pea coat. Newspapers crinkle and everyone fights to stay awake. Flooding it out with headphones, I think this is what I know, this is what has become routine, this is my life.
How tragic is that?
I am a little plastic person in a little plastic world. A rubber soul, an elastic band, another half eaten apple thrown back in the bin. Look at me go, a cartwheel mid-air.
Tell me ground, will my feet ever land?
A deliberate dream
And here I am, a walking tree.
Love and hate.
The devil,
God, I don’t know which turn to take.
Let me ask
The third chimpanzee.
I wish I had a sword, not a real one, but an imaginary one so I could swing and nip strangers as they walk by, let them bleed as I do, early morning as trembling fingers reach up to lock the door. Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen sink. I think I am so much smarter, but I’m not. Can barely hold my leg steady under the weight. And the billboards are right, no one wants to be a fat guy, except maybe the actual fat guy. He’s proud, he is jubilant, he is steering his car past another drive-through window. We are hungry, there is no changing that.
I want to take the bus headed for Lavender Loop. Such a pretty word, take me to a prettier world. Lavender Loop, like linen spray, I can stretch, inhale and go back to sleep.
But I am here, on the train, teetering over this bridge, city lights splattered like freckles on the earths black shoulder. The same girl stares at me, several seats over in her scarf and pea coat. Newspapers crinkle and everyone fights to stay awake. Flooding it out with headphones, I think this is what I know, this is what has become routine, this is my life.
How tragic is that?
I am a little plastic person in a little plastic world. A rubber soul, an elastic band, another half eaten apple thrown back in the bin. Look at me go, a cartwheel mid-air.
Tell me ground, will my feet ever land?