060813A
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You burst them,
the way bubbles are burst,
because it does not matter
to anyone, anymore.
Collecting dying moments,
as all the little delays
that tend to accumulate together
in various worthless arrangements.
You did not find anything
that you were looking for,
and you always have to go back
to start again from further behind.
A tease of false connection,
enters as an unwelcome intruder,
trying to get you hooked
on one or another illusion of faith.
You have no taste for that drug,
as it makes you feel sick inside,
every time they force feed you
another dose.
Money never grows as fast as dreams,
leaving you stranded
on one or another desert island,
until the next shipwreck.
You drowned long ago,
and no one recovered your remains,
from where you washed ashore,
having been scavenged to the bone.
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070813B
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No one told you,
but they all expected you to know.
According to rumor
you could buy the answers
if your pockets were deep enough,
but no one would tell you
who was selling,
without getting a bigger cut
than you had cash.
You are thrown into a pit
of dead silence,
to grope around in the pitch dark,
following nothing more
than your natural quest for clues.
Everything that you come to
misleads you,
to look much deeper
for what cannot be found.
There is always the need
to have much more,
to get something less
than what it was you had
too little of.
A handful of misfit pieces
belonging to different puzzles,
which never go together again,
to form any sort of picture.
You start writing invitations,
finding all the addresses are obsolete,
no forwarding destination,
and everyone has left you,
for whatever it was
that you could never hope to be.
You dial numbers
that are all disconnected,
as no longer in service.
Your connections with reality,
have all been severed,
though you have no doubt what it is.
You tried to change it
into something you could want,
but it resisted your every attempt,
leaving you exhausted,
the way a trauma victim feels,
when first brought into triage.
Never having anything they want,
no matter what you choose to have,
and having no idea
who they really are,
who want something from you,
there is never the right get
in any of the give,
but it always wants you to submit,
so you can be beaten as too submissive.
You wanted to be someone,
but no one recognizes you
as anyone you could ever want to be.
They all have different ideas,
while passing over you in silence,
on their way to somewhere else.
There is nothing you can open
that they do not want to close
by raising the cost of getting in.
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070813C
-----------
They sent someone,
the way they send packages
through the mails.
Someone to remind me
that you were gone,
never to return.
I did not choose to open up
that conversation,
or to unwrap what came,
as it was only sent
to make me lonelier,
knowing everything had failed.
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070813D
------------
I know quite a few,
You can talk to them,
and you can put words in their mouths.
They never really talk back,
but the illusion of conversation
seems to satisfy most other people,
in between listening distractedly
to the endless series
of repeated lectures,
on an infinite number
of increasingly irrelevant subjects.
One has at least a few choices
as to various ways to die out
from all of that and so much more
that otherwise fills the time,
in such curiously tedious ways.
It is something quite similar
to sitting in a cage,
so that one can actually be fed.
A sacrifice of any natural habitat
to overcome the dangers
of excessive exposure
and various sorts of starvation.
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070813E
-----------
I was the alien,
who crash landed into your world.
You wanted to keep me hidden,
only showing me off
to an occasional close associate.
You tried to conceal your thoughts,
but I could see right through
every wall you put up between us.
You never wanted to be so naked
with all of your clothes on.
We tried various disguises
that might make it all look normal.
The crowd kept its distance,
your friends stopped calling,
and it made you nervous.
You decided you wanted me to go back
to wherever world I came from,
hoping everything else would be forgiven
by those who had cast you out,
as though we were a new mortal sin.
I never saw you again after that day,
when I finally gook off,
because we traveled in different orbits,
and mine were always light years distant
from anything you found to be familiar.
Sometimes I think of you,
and immediately put you out of my mind,
afraid my thoughts might touch you again,
in one or another forbidden way,
the way lovers only dream of doing.
I have not found anywhere,
where they really chanced to want me.
Lately considering whether to join in with
one or another underground freak show,
where an alien can blend in and disappear.
You never understood my real feelings,
as to how alone it all always seemed,
watching your world cross my horizon.
I knew you would never go with me,
and I knew you would not take me with you.
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070813F
-----------
My luck was never really all that good,
and bad luck tends to get much worse.
At least that is the way my luck tends to go.
I thought that I might become beautiful
as I continued to grow older,
but time chose to make me uglier instead.
So whatever I had lost out on early,
never chanced to really come to me late.
I cannot blame you for not wanting to
take any of the sorts of risks
that you can see etched into my face.
I am probably all the bad things
that your mother warned you about.
All the kinds of things
that your father never was.
I wanted you as my good luck charm,
and wanted you so very much more
for everything else
that I could really want you for.
My mirror gives me all the answers
as to why you never chance to call.
that you would want to look at
all that closely.
A kind of grotesquely twisted shape,
from somewhere in a wax museum,
where the ghouls congregate,
in a dim lit basement.
You were never much for horror movies,
and I was never on any of the social lists
I see you moved up in the world,
while I slipped down, going out of sight.
It is the kind of place that it really is.
Some of us are destined to be angels
while others have to remain devils.
Neither has any real choice
about their one way ticket destination.
The really interesting things only happen
when we forget our places
and let go of inhibitions in between,
while knowing it can never last,
because there is a moment that comes
the way it always comes,
as to covering it all up and returning
back to wherever it was,
from where it was that we came.
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