Author Information
Dreamweaver
10 PM, Cholla Park, high school kids laughing, today was their last day of the academic year,
parties happening, adolescents and their friends drinking, i begin to fade, to disappear,
the social world is a post office, screamingly trapped in an envelope,
experience their happiness, behind a steel wall with a 10 foot periscope,
doesn't work vicariously, leads to sadness over and over i realize,
strangers i miss most, teary eyed and laden with unused good-byes...
a dedication, to the love never really attained,
to the unrealistic concept, cherished and religiously ingrained,
debate myself, in the gray matter cacophony blaring,
poof, god not there, not really caring,
costly conversation pieces, to never get used,
unlike the passive tense, to which my writings are fused,
i sit around, inverted smile,
like things will change, i expect nothing shorter than quite a while,
if i cried, tears the color of blue jeans,
alone even online, pumping my penis the most pathetic of routines,
god can't compete with luck, like the human body with untreated cancer,
job, kids, wife, breathe, eat and succumb - the final answer,
bring him into the conversation, create a guaranteed red herring,
an infidel to your fairy tales, to the left and right of me believers glaring,
muster some meaning in that, soul the same color as burnt brown,
touch me - risk infection by my permanent, fuck-faced, freeze-framed frown,
we are reptiles, mammals, and insects - the belief we're not always trendy,
probable reality attacks, here i am, no one around to defend me...
