Thinking I had the appointment set for half an hour earlier
wondering why that part is hurting while
the subway car took a sharp speed to me.
Into the tunnels I read the apocryphals
you and your women and men,
the children that never came.
Her little slit of a vagina, there
for all to touch, once, twice, more.
the most beautiful babies, now
you have them, and you have now.
Do I owe you anything?
Sometimes
you
realize your tongue
doesn't really belong
in the space inside
your mouth and everything
turns really uncomfortable.
And suddenly one of us dies. Death is always sudden. You have the umbrella for the rain, but you're going to get rained on anyway.
He does not know you as you know you:
he cannot hate you as you hate you.
If everything that could've gone wrong did, we would've gotten the chance to start over by now.
They go express for you at night, deserted routes wandering in a normal crowd.
The sick mind is observant: it knows what to look for.
Untied strings, slinky socks, nostrils of lotus holes,
levers up, rails, toys,
rats, discard, disregard, roll
and crush! airbrushed lady
too pretty for the rest of us, walk
among us, flaw in the ordinary,
prized unknown.
Dark in the morning and yellow
lights underground.
Ideals are easily upset,
hugging a box of vanilla wafers.
The rustling of leaves and wings.
Birds as tame as rooted trees.
Next stop, last stop.
we are God,
God is us,
God is dead,
so are we all.
But his resemblance I must not describe.
The rest, you have seen.
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