it was in the center of my winter
on no particular day when I realized
about face,
my life stopped here.
how could it continue
knowing all that I had come to know
fruitless and wilted
dejected and repulsed
the savory snow ran whining
as usual.
when would I learn the obvious?
that others are not like me
regardless of my outward sensitivity
compassionate eyes roll inward
when faced with the truth
that nobody cares...

words, they mean nothing
as they fall from lying lips,
pretentious platitudes of anything other than
sincerity,
honesty from a heart beating true,
oh no! let's be politically correct
uttering sounds of sweet
and non-offensive tripe
from a freshly killed sow
taken from somewhere up north of the border,
where nobody talks about irrelevant things
it's much more efficient to spill
guts on the lampshade,
ducks on the tarp
we'll last here till summer
if no one comes close ...

01/01/2009

Posted on 01/02/2009
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