old school shades

your hatred wears old school shades,

and waltzes with shadows,

 

but I see him

 

peeping through

your keyhole pupils,

I hear his sinister laughter

on the edges

of your honeyed voice.

 

we met once,

 

in a cold dark chamber

where confused people

go to speak

in indiscernible tongues

to exercise the invisible parts

of themselves.

 

he’s the kind of strange

who makes me want to buy

a pickaxe and some lime.

 

but, thanks for coming by,

 

and I hope you enjoy

your trek through Eternity

 

alone. 

Reviews

[LJW]

Holy F**k. You know my ex husbands? The pickaxe/lime stanza is the stuff I love to read.

[roarke]

I see this as people trapped and can't move on, out grow, leave behind. And it does suffer in Eternity. I dig the confession stanza.... truth in there, better to smoke in the dynamite shed.
Cool stuff RG