Fizzling Selfless
1-31-06
Fizzling.
Catching on something, a splinter,
mirrors tell of sunken eyes.
a future shrouded by shrieking sympathy
in the loneliness of a skull, neurons firing
like city business, but the sun goes away
.
sometimes, there is no safety from the Torturer,
curling infinitely forward, back, slender arachnid legs,
hugging.
sometimes, you beg, there is no fire,
and God’s silence haunts, like elusive smallpox
sometimes, there is no one to watch you cry,
shriek into the abyss, there is no echo, &
no one can protect you from this past you’re dying, &
kiss poetic solitude loneliness bitterness airplanes
cutting through the silent sky,
above the silent testing-grounds of the gods.
others cry alone, too.
old woman, ready to die, husband
a myth to her grandchildren, her life
a myth to her grandchildren,
independence shaken to the ground, fragile &
waiting for death among the sad cubicle stalls
square rooms, machines bleeping cheerlessly
nurses, overworked and inhuman, they’re scissored
into career of stifled hyperventilations,
your pain is the atmosphere
which they glide, terrified, above.
at home, they cry,
lost to the darkness of the den
into the darkness behind walls, into
television insomnia, infomercial dry-heaves
hearts flickering through the void.
the street throbs with its caffeinated messengers,
they go to work together,
go through the dance together, but
they always dance alone.
Late at night, they cry
when you dream, if you dream.
when you kiss the mirror and imagine
when you laugh through banquets
when you’re smothered,
every moment, human tears fall
(there is no mother)
generation to generation
to tomorrow’s sky.
On a serious note, I really do like this. I actually felt this poem had its source somewhere inside of you, rather than being blasted at someone/something you feel love/hate.
