July 14
It is safe for the houses to sleep in the streets, but not
for me. I cannot follow that which is so
right and regular for mundane things. I
am a jagged piece and it is hard for me to find my place.
The sun comes though everyone’s windows and peeks around the
blinds left down. I must mind my manners
and not be a nuisance or a bother; draw no undue attention to my brightness,
carry a basket to hide it in.
And while every river can drown its sorrows in the rush of
the downhill sweep to the sea; I must stand here stock cold sober and bear the
pain appointed to me.
Curl your fingers into the tangles of life and hang on
*
WAKE
Don’t worry that you might spoil the procession
By getting out of your coffin.
You don’t need to lie there waiting for the lid to
close.
People will walk past saying ---so sad---too bad
But don’t lie instate just to keep them from
feeling
Their trip was a waste.
Just because the crypt has been purchased
Doesn’t mean you’re ready to go.
There are still opportunities to dance.
Don’t die for love, glory or pride.
Don’t die before your time.
Death is only an honor
If you lived every preceding second.
No comments:
Post a Comment