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we've got pacifiers for the impassionate
we've got pacifiers they're called the impassionate
sunsets wont wait, but they'll kill you tomorrow if you hang around long enough, and you're stuck in your rut sometimes you wonder if the meniscus counts, or if its the only part that counts, you've got a penchant love for cobblestone streets and then those dusk dark eyelines trace the skyline. im convinced that love is a topic for dullards, we only ever talk about the things that might kill us. we only ever do the things that have. i can remember fletching arrows into bowstrings and i forget what happens next. i found a seashell in the middle of the arizona dessert and i put my handhsake two steps behind my highfive and sandgrains stick in my eardrums and i can still hear the dessert screaming, the world is not the same when you're not the same. i've heard you go on and on about stabbing phantoms with icicles the weapon melts and know one knows you've been trading wounds with dusted demons and silk fast weeping whims of kindness. i find bicycle wheels in the strangest places, under me and in front of me. and i could care less if my teeth fell out of my head, id gum down the last drop of juicy cardboard dinner feeding my stomach till i starved my mind. cardboard corrugated and flat pressed with american cheese on top and im always full and never satisfied, i find empty cups next to full tea pots and i dont take no one for an answer. i saw a picture of a man with a sly smyle and the mustache curved up from the earth it sighed and shuttered every time he said Hello, and good morning the earth shuttered and sighed soupbowls full of fortune cookie wrappers and i've got enough electrical cord to tie myself up for weeks and no juice. the currents running jistways and its shocking when it stops. i saw a dog that begged to be stolen. i saw a butterfly with a penchant love for pin pricked heart felt admirers i've seen barrels beg for waterfalls and i've heard beggars pray for death, but beggars alike the only thing we cant care to choose is paper or plastic i've got cheap thrills and plenty of pocket change, i've got high rolling joints and jizz dried sindow panes i see the honest torturer weep open mouthed, this hurts me, as much as i hurt you, hes got a chance to really forget himself, to live only in the screams of his closest friends and deadliest lovers, i kill myself every night, im convinced buddha sits on the back of eyelids leading my reincarnation with every blink. I'm convinced the sleeping dogs lie. they're not asleep. they're fibbing biblical storms of rabbit kicked out punched out bruised in shut up storm crowds, hare brained schemes i saw a dreamer at a train station, he didn't get off at my stop, i saw a corpse on a train track he didnt get off. we used to hang around outside the circle k salvation armed forces vestibule drooling over the fresh sliced babes in hot high rize netted nested slacks, they all wore electric rollerskates with sunshine laces they’d glide over eyebrow rainbow walkways through arches burning holes in cosmic brick house mortar compartment contraptions, i always wanted to be the last true inventor, with springs and gears in my pockets, no hair no chance and no sleep frizzled and stained holding up a complex cog of confusion so simple you scream you didn’t think of it first, but it thinks of you, the only gizmo i've found is the tiny asshole that sits on top of my shoulders stroking the long fur of sudden sullen miscreants and misintended recipients of the last free leg up the last hand out that didn’t come cuffed, i saw a tax break, it broke my back over the last white picket fence unbent unbuilt from old white burning crosses, flood insurance prices are on the rise,water is abundant and we've only ever got time for make-up lights and a little thunder, i like to be scared, i like to be terrified, some ones got to do it, the media shouts and screams yells and tells me to freeze tells me ill die today in a 30 second breaking newspiece tells me to duck and run for cover story bloodbaths with sanitary conclusions, but some ones got to scare me some one has to put some fear into my brittled bones, only the deadest of us fear the news, so long as i can hear it on cnn i know its safe enough not to have blown my brains out across a two story sports utility vehicle. Ill find comfort in the sound of every open mouthed policemen with the spittle drying in the air in front of his humid face.
I call the taxidermist by first name, hes got a table for two and the menus fitting, stocked and chocked full, but im stuffed, ill skip dessert and ill miss the last best thing before the bill
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-deven pitcher OhDeven.com 2007--- |
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