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30 September 2008 @ 11:24 am
I'm not usually this pessimistic, but negativity is a great source for artistic creation  

A rave of monsters
clustered in your head
lanky daddy longlegs like the ones
from childhood--you fled
A long time ago
took place
on pink and white strewned rollerblades
the rainbow sky setting overhead
East virginal periwinkle
and the west a tempestuous red

Those branch-made children's guns
were lethal
and everything we did was legal
a moment frozen in time
a slide show of snow cone Sundays
won't leave my head alone
as will not the monsters

Remember Hampton Village
we were just kids
I still feel like a kid sometimes
You make me feel ridiculously awkward
What happened to my words?
From K-12, I've always been a talker
But not now

A rave of monsters in my head
a pile of garbage
stinking like original sin
all the flowers wilted
in the Garden of Eden
And all the poppies by the pool
In Hampton village
perished too
And you lost those pink rollerblades
And your snow cone has melted
Plus Mom doesn't make them
Anymore, because she's too depressed
She lays on the couch living vicariously through
Hokey sitcoms and CSI miami for good measure
She's too dissolutioned with the world right now
And with herself
And everyone in Hampton village moved away
So I guess I'll have to save
the vaguely sunny memory's for
an especially deluded occasion

Like for when pigs fly
Or women really recieve rights
Or when the Iraqi war ends
Or when the US and Afghanistan
become friends
Or when "how are you?"
means "how are you?"
and not
"please say good and then leave me alone"
Or when I can tell myself the truth
Well here it is,
In the words of jolly ol' Mr. Smith:
If you can't help it
then just leave it alone
 
 
 
exsic on November 16th, 2016 03:34 am (UTC)
Like for when pigs fly