Oh sanity of the mundane, a helping of it
The distortion of time it's delicate serviette
Rise old engine of mistakes generate running legs to correct
rise and move again to the forefront of life's comedy
Cover the moon with your failures
burn the city by with blade fire karma
inside the heat of your living veins
great fires you never meant to engulf have sprung
Weight of the crossroads in your little bag
the heart’s quiet impulse kicking over like a choke
A small car or just moon uncovered
a small technical error point with you finger
Only one correction waiting like a dwarf in a basement
so concentrated inside you, can it burst out now
longing to be healed covered in these meticulous flames
You grab some to share but they won't grow on others
“just to walk,” said the paralyzed child
“life backwards,” laughed the insane old man
“life backwards,” even God coined just to hear the words together
A voice rose from off the road in audible tone then whispering
One correction one fatal error, spend your life hiding
Haunted by the accident that befell you
dragging you screaming toward banquet of second chances
Forced to feed as the glutton, so choke the sauce down
Because in ignorance we tickle our egos
when we look at ourselves, we make others wear our clothes
there is more scar tissue than untouched flesh inside it all
all mirrored in another's organs, a different inch of their mind
"to stop your impulses steering you" said the muse with sunset eyes
Aiming herself toward the same place you'll crash
“life’s road lived backwards,” you humm
on an ember extending out to an unsmoked cigarette
Eternity rises from your slumber
puts coffee on the stove
turns to give you lost secrets of your distracted decades
before your very day begins
Breakfast table waking, writing existence on the napkin
while the ghost of past errors dictates slowly
before the first cup is finished
You have a small galaxy of typos and blotches
The well groomed will leave their feedback
Accuse you of living life backwards
Their tea is perfection and your coffee is masupial scat
At least it keeps you caffeinated
Lungs full of fuel now to scream at the naysayer as they nay say and nay say
moving toward the glowing horizon
Is it the future
Or some gate to writer's paradise
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário