He pretended to have fun at the party
red drinks, cranberry probably
Dirty jokes, they were in the mood for
Jarrad fake laughed
Dimples and a widening smile
But no real feeling behind any of it
Alcohol worked slightly
made it easier to go along with it all
On his way home an authentic smile robbed his face
Not because the evening was spectacular
Not because he was relieved
But because he had liked pretending to have fun
In the factory of the leering competition
A key is not for a door
It is a nozzle
That fits over a small food hose
The key is nothing more than a flavor flask
That connects to the hose
and flavors the food as it comes out of the hose
The leering competition look down on others
And are in turn looked down on
Giving the impression that there is skill to it
They manipulate nozzles to their own tastes
Sneering at one another
A different flavor yet no brain for distinction
A leader is born through a take over
The new agenda forced upon all
The underlings will eat last month's leftovers
Some of them will become last month's leftover
Cut fruit souring in its box
Old pizza congealing cheese
It all used to have purpose
Now it listens to its commands
and goes off
Twenty species in one person
A good one a fair one
There is Dilly birds
For you seem so dilly sporadic
Wings boosting out of hedgerows
Words across the page expanding red hot magma
The Dilly quids
The value retained from each dilly interaction
The quid pro quo of reciprocity
Quids that lost its leading S
The Dilly goods
For what is not better than a parcel
One you don't know the contents of
All wrapped for the distribution center
The Dilly elixir
For sometimes the medicine cures
Certain days in the hurry or the dilly dally
That is when you need that Dilly examining
The new house had too much shade
Too many ghosts
absorbed too mjuch of the fat
Of the previous owners
I could smell it and it was present in the air
Too many ghosts a hint of sweat
That was not mine neither hers
Too symmetrical inside
Impractical and lopsided outside
Haunted at its core
Shower curtain
tapestry of pain
The new house was not familiar to me
What was I to do
Topiary addictions
Long steel spear like fences
White stones instead of grass
Street a pale face frightened
As that ghost pulled up in a car
The new resident phantom
I left to find something less dead
Full lips and dreams of being somewhere ahead
Hunger is carves the heart and the face
pushes you to sell yourself incessantly
To the outsider some buy and some flinch
Full schemes and into the hospital
No beds available
Sit out front on the pavements
Sell yourself while you are injured
Take ears and listen to the spiels
position face impressed
Family and friends discount
Gather in and be decieved
Friendly transition of the con
Back to the hospital
There you can steady yourself
Streets are symptoms
Products and price labels relief
Full ambition still intact
Magazine empty
push bullets in
The fire it all out again
emulating the pitch
Three species of bullshit
the lie, the half truth and the exaggeration
I tap on the wall for there is no door
you cannot hear me
It is here I'll wait
It is somewhere unknown
Few can hear me and those who can
Are busy and indifferent
The world doesn't pay attention
It focuses on its own given cog
Must I do the same with the chipped pink brick
Hard and well stuck into the pile between cement
In this high wall I will never climb
No birds, no sky, no color
So I wait from this side of the wall
It's an interesting sense of void
Of total silence in the shade of some artificial light
Shining timidly from edge of a dead horizon
I must knock somewhere on the brick
less abrasive of course
My knuckles may need to be protected
Then again if the grazing was bearable I'd scrape them
I sit back to the brick
Enjoying the lack of any stimuli
The goneness of it
You cannot hear me
another century and I'll walk into this desert
After the strange light from the dead horizon
Or perhaps some unfortunate adventure
In the meantime Ill paint the wall with the sweat of my back
Dream of you somehow opening a hidden door
Like a faceless lizard suddenly sporting a wide smile
Guaranteeing some form of familiarity to a long ago earth
Your face would come whole with eyes and all
And you would naturally see all of me
Placing those things i've lost along the soul crushing exodus
To this strange backward realm
One that my external self hates
From inside I love
A realm that seems to allow me to feel more alive
A longing remains like radiation
never to dissapate
It seems so many things
need to be acknowledged
Therefore accepted
processed and acccepted
The patience of these hungerless, thirstless decades
The rumours of you in mirages of the dead desert
In the inconsistent positioning of pink chipped brick
Knowing this too I'll never have
In some surreal way learning to love it
learning to understand how to let go of hope
Above no sky, out here no sound
Here there is so much space
A sense of void
Of loving and not feeling any love
Of touching the brick yet not feeling oppressed
Of reaching out with senses
Yet percieving nothing
Just the abrasiveness just the emptiness
Have I learned to love that?
Probably
The desolation has brought the heart to the brim
The lack of everything
paints how i felt living on earth
So many brilliant things
All so much better than me
Yet confused faces some hints of admiration joined
to make pink chipped brick walls like these beside me
Giving me something to lean against
Something to take a few drops of eternity
to support my weight and distract me from this distilled nothing
This flavorless aromaless realm of post life
That I understand already but you can't relate to
You cannot believe me
And from the other side of the wall
You cannot even hear my muffled knocking
when my grazed knuckles can afford it
