Saturday, June 9, 2012

Wanderlust

I walked through the most crowded house

By the Broadway Market with a package in my bag

I dared not to know the contents inside

But it burned my hand with every gracing pass of a finger tip

I wrote 7 poems in my head along the way and forgot every word except "Validity"

Oh, how I marched through the doorways

Like a follower of Jim Morrison or Jesus Christ

The golden juice sat in my hand like a Snitch

And the hat sat on the bed, giving me 15 years of bad luck

I recalled his face, but never from a real life memory

He dismembered my friend, not a real friend, more like an associate

I've dreamed of her before, but never reconnected

"Just take a pass, look through the mall and you will know all"

Under the door, laid women weeping in blankets

Like the legs of caterpillars smashed by a unicycle,

They weeped helplessly as I strolled on by

And I looked in their eyes,

covered heads for no hair dared to wave hello

I imagined they were a 6-string activist and nothing more

It was a failed comedy that did well at the box office

A masturbation session that was inconclusively delayed

A paid politician that wrote a speech in 5 minutes

A paragraph for every personal venture

Of a folk singer that never made a laugh

On the first line that waits for a perfect time

Where a book of matches told a better story than the Bible ever did

"In order to create, one has to be destroyed"

I always wondered why they cut out paper-people from the pages

And briefly showed off the most important text like it was meaningless

I'm too drunk to have an audience smile or quit a job they hate

When the questions make a punched clown wish they were in an expert in apathy

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