Puffer-Fish Poisons and the Antidote for Hope

Puffer-Fish Poisons and the Antidote for Hope

Scrape these days off like calcified skin

In spectacle flecks of sprinkled evidence

That a man lived, a man attempted love

In a smoke haze affront to all of that which

Would appear natural, conceding the likelihood

Of a travesty over a pinnacle of exuberant triumph

Into the romping grounds of knighted troubadours

Serenading the pantheons of star-crossed neophytes

Believing in the power of tomorrows like American debt

Piled up like greased sludge lubricants to keep that blood pumping

On the exacerbated quandary witch of hope

Cackling on the doorsteps of another year

Another stack of invoiced revolutions

Without recognizing just how dizzy this planet has become

I don’t like the way she treats me when she is angry

I say good night to her and that year, and that brief grip on love

Like the dying parakeet in the mine, the harbinger of a season ago

Knowing the allure of not having to bite into the soap bar of loneliness

The alabaster anesthetic to misguided faith in that bastard hope

I sacrifice attending to your pulpit demands

Inebriate myself on the toxins of knowing I must drive myself

Home at some measure of time between two and five am  

And cocoon into nothing, to admix the serum of my genetic makeup

Into a concoction of stagnate bog and xanthium gum

I welcome nil this familiar pox

Wishing upon fantasies of my own normalcy

I can not bare your children.  I can not be your parent in tandem.

I can not fund this voyage and finance this foul resentment

Fuming through archways to stifle my respiration

The puffer-fish quills of your Fugu tongue poison me rouge

Yet expected in my sequestered honesties 

I beg of you a reprieve, a solar renaissance

The tetrodotoxin antidote to recover my faith in hope itself