Farce And Folly
The hollow trench of spine
pretzel-twisted around vows
to hold them in place in desperation
and hunger, to no avail, no matter how
she contorts herself to fit anticipation
and reign control,
and so close
to an overdose
of standards,
became the girl who cried ludicrous.
Know now, that my tastebuds remain intact, and I taste the sweet and sour,
thus bitter is not in my repertoire, and
my diet does not consist of dysfunction.
This calls for an exorcism of affection;
I’m to be purged of my chips and glitches,
and you of your self-consumption-
Consuming words and bonds and all the right things,
Consuming a home and
the trails and sidewalks and highways that took us
only as far as you would let them
Consuming prayer and fidelity
and the air raids in which every
day was another bomb you conspired with gravity
molasses-slow so everything was imminent,
not just yet, but in due time,
so you could manually churn the cogs whichever way
was suitable for your ego.
I know now, please listen.
A tender plea to the past,
Until then, you will dance in debris;
simply exist
in farce and folly.
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