Dark Poetry Prose Poetry June 6, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

06-06-05 monday 8:46pm

disposed to. with. of. familiar in some ways. foreign in others.

bourbon tears. whiskey smiles.

the world is full again. full of people. stretching its seams. and mine.

it's as ugly out there as it is beautiful.

it's nothing and everything packaged side by side.

it's both crowded and empty in this grocery store we call life.

full of processed meat and overpriced desserts.

conveyor belts and such slow-moving express checkout lines.

debit me and be done with it. paper or plastic? i couldn't care less.

full or hungry... what's the difference?

just find me a parking space away from all the other cars. and leave me there with my engine running. until the pollution takes over and the tank runs dry.

06-06-05 monday 10:53pm

turbines in the dust. people caught in sneezes.

yellow brick roads making passages through your grief. if only. if only the wizard were what he seems. instead of just the curtain.

where are they now. i wouldn't guess. fish hooks baited with lightning bolts. catches weighed, then throw back.

feet too soft and hands to stiff. to manage the soil they've been assigned to sift. there's no gold in there anyway. just peebles and rocks. just hopes of if.

drift away again. as before you did. emptying this ocean as though it were only a bath. as the loose hairs scamper towards the drain. and the dirt sticks to the edges.

torment me. because you can. carrot on the stick.

how does it feel to be the wizard. how thick that curtain is.

i am cowardly. lacking courage. i am made of tin. looking for a heart to temper the hollow within.

and also i am the wicked witch.

not looking for redemption. nor wishes granted.

just spells as they are cast. faltering in the magic that memory grants.

peel me. i am fruit. ripening before you.

bite down. i am off the vine and eager to be bruised.