Saturday, May 18, 2013

Wallet Credentials



There is always going to be another wallet packed with better credentials
A face, numbers lying to a license to smear the cycles of fortnights
As if the hours were boomerangs coming back with better refrains
Than the hand from which they came

Pacing in rooms spun in circles of dirt wearing feet numb tilling the earth
The way outside wanders in, a pasture explodes and where to begin
A voice heard inside a single voice banging the under-skull for a better version of dull
An excitement one can handle with the pursuit of a novel label

To be a perfume wafting a collar, the mascara of a darker lover
The inch to reach the out of touch shelf, the purer heart to fool the castle guards
That one was fit to enter, the draw bridge of conclusions latched
Peering down in an aftermath beyond the taste of clandestine lies

Being what one appears spending time and time for the wave of master spies
To be the dancer on the high-wire tight twirling timeless expressions for a circus of gazers
A forever-star in the lights squinting to see the mirage like a nova because
The package for the night was measured to fit the seamstress’ prize

Caught in the moment and forgotten the next; spending the month
Bartering fear of rejection for the mysterious cupboards of love
What is left by a condiment with molded bread, sugar and rancid tea
Honey with no bees to keep; barren holes for accoutrement regrets

There will always be a better sense, a firmer hand and a more modern blend
The mirror dancing was the old you trying to get out
Forgetting broken glass was not a reflection, but the chance
Passed on in bending signs that judgment calls those who choose

Mature before, younger than that now and how and how to crawl back
To the things you use to know; open the stories a gray boy once told
Him and I walking side by side, faces in the sky, ears next to the grass
Hearing heaven in the lies of hell, here as simple as the shell

Of crawling out a hermit’s home in the fashion of a twice mortgaged loan
for a life that was already his

No comments:

Post a Comment