Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Cash For Pretense


Thank god I'm free.

It wasn't really one final failure,
so much as a series of trip-ups
of pigeon steps,
a stack of traceable
sequentially numbered moments.

Thank god it's over.

A few qwerty keystrokes
and history is rewritten:
it never happened;
'these aren't the Droids you're after'.

Thank god for pills and Paint.
We said let's not but 
shhh
we really did.

10 July 2012
2213

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Last Call


Being as it's the Last One Ever 
it should be triumphant, finally final.
The great culmination of nineteen
thousand, two hundred plus hours;
I spend it dozing to Fratellis radio
and study materials with too lengthy answers;
then trauma in the witching hours,
stab wound to the neck finds me
pilfering textbooks at three am.
Her stoic lips tell no stories, so 
we settle for the men in blue.
The ghosts are close pre-dawn,
another face, eyes heavy with PCP-
lack of oxygen but somehow lucid.
If I sit up and open my eyes,
I can stare out the window into yours-
of a distant past reality, of course.
The skyline has subtly changed
but the sunsets are always the same.
We began the countdown
only to to find ourselves surprised
to arrive at zero.

16 June 2012
1803