March 11, 2009
What is 'crucial'

what determines the morrow's fate
the unblessed seasoning of your nextday plights
lies a vague

scratch on

the tarnished rock
of the foggy awaiting

They the bleary eyed Caulfields

and unsuspecting Kareninas
blind to the unmanned colours of their nextday
the whole spectrum of realizations
yet to be known

They the echoing wails of the foresuffering

knowing nothing but the etching of Coca Cola advertisements

and rude stirrings from the loose jawed thirtysomethings

that beckon for premature clarity

so sloppy ties can be tied

over cups of coffee and brittle one liners

knowing everything and nothing for a jarring four years

in silent genuflection to the top shelf of glossy girls

who wear their hourly wages from different men like wristwatches

counting the seconds until some one

any one

makes them feel wanted for their posterized souls

in secret understanding that they will live forever noir

like washed up Jane Greers superimposed into consumer infinity

hoping on judgment day the blondies and joes will be the first to be stripped nude

crying to their lost model of grace

asking Him how to take comfort fastened on bare trees

only when flames lick their heels will they hang their heads in shame

at least they hope so

What is 'right'

what twocent fortune pretending to be a threecent upper
the guttural growl floating by street signs and caution tape
warning a listener

"Eyes down

the capbill protects"
in faith the new blood can be salvaged

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