11 June 2011

won’t ever work

eastern evangeline coasting to the the coastline

eye on the big time
       still waiting  to decide

what she’ll do   and
      who means what to whom
silent  in the face of coming    doom

we’ve now heard   seven
       still no word from eleven
the politics of heaven       aren’t  

         the only resource not used up
steals the breath out of coffee cups
finds doping and hoping just ain’t enough             it's never enough  

         for eyes made of empathy
hearts held back by litany  of
    hands  all revelry    but then again they have to be

it’s their job    

         how can you get anything
from one knee down  questioning

  the briefest apology is part of me  
                              it’s starting      see

she’s a little bit thin
       but then everything is
and when you can just quit    there’s a need      a conflict


the eastern seaboard was flooded with cutting remarks
 booze  broken hearts  
      you could sing it   to start      just don’t call it art       mark

not in this town 
      eyes so black they’re brown
even the weightless will have to come down         here   take a frown

they don’t cost anything
  are as contagious as yawning
           they keep some of it real   but the rest  still

       a little more time   better explanation
a plan that can  beat back manifestation
did destiny or greed invent the plantation

was it man   was it me     she can’t stand the waiting
   all the driving    the east  the north's infatuation
with the basic building blocks of  frustration

a bundle of nerves dressed like a jealous jerk
            early to rise but late to learn
he pretended to be the only one hurt  
             isolationism won’t ever

Caspar David Friedrich 

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