Sublime Attitudes

empty empty empty
my spoon, my fork, my moon, my cup
my ever available cringing circumstance
so long everyone empty headed, mirror
tilting dawn, way out of town,
in rear view hindsight 20 to 1 million get ups
false starts, acting out king lear-ian
madness just for the sake of the youngest
relation, to have reason to speak truthfully
without the fear of treason. the heart
is like fire is like heat is like pleasure
is. my whole heaven is
between that leg and the alley
behind shoe factories, running out of
words to do anything more than look,
to feel love like it's true, to fix nothing
but the lies I told myself while
waiting, the tangle of sheets from
awarenesses bleeding, my whole life
has been one big loving-hating
mostly love. Mostly
recreating.