poem

[earthbelow]

Feeling a little skewed and
hell if I know what that means.
Just that things are a little off.

But I'm figuring some things out
like why I stay at the party
with the barbie girls
and even as i hate them
and take their calls
and seethe
i let them dance around me
in short skirts
and give me air kisses
full of vapid savoir faire

The story goes like this:
Last night I dreamed something
not terrifying like monsters
terrifying like reality
when you turn it inside out
and are forced to look at it
when you slide backwards

skewed.

so on balance
If I find it a comfort
if I pull drudgery
around me as a blanket
it's the thing to do

I said that I liked the quiet
and this still returns true
I get nervous if you stand too long
near my spot or are watching me
I pace and mark territory
I need the knowledge of your presence
not the presence itself

Better to let the noise make walls around you
"guess what I did last night"
"guess what he said last night"
"oh my god girl"
"look what i bought isn't it cute"
Brick by brick of hard solid nothingness

'cause here's the truth
I'm not going to Paris
and fear New York.
I don't dream like that.
Paris is the city of lights
Only if you never see it dark.
And New York is the Big Apple
That's best if you never taste it sour
or see the little burrows of worms
and the round bruises that must be cut out

I keep you because
you give the world
a safe, blinding flatness
and I've seen the other side of that

it's this:
there's sun up
there's sun down
better to see it going
than wait the hours
to make sure it's coming back
- dullness aside.