Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Coming Apart.

We were once clay
Under all this brown
And gray
And peach
And blue
Sheet rock
And easily broken bone

We used to bend
Mold
And conform

So why not now?

Little white lies
Turn the epitome of dust
On our lips
Speak and
Blind the onlookers
With sand in their eyes

Little girls
Ask their fathers
Twirling in dresses
Pretty am I?

But invisible patriarchs don’t speak
Regretful mothers don’t either

Silence just a synonym for falsehood

Now she looks for untruths
In the eyes and tone
On the corner of he-ain’t-shits
And
He-could-have-been-shit

Or something

But teachers tell white lies too
No pun intended on their color
Got Community College flags
On their walls
Army posters on bulletin boards
Asking our boys if they’ve heard the call

And when the whisper of his demise
Cascades around his throat
And chokes his future
He will go looking for it
With a gun and camouflage
A fitted cap in a crowded half-ass classroom
Powdered pockets and fiend hands

They are liars too
Can’t get clean
Won’t get clean
Tried to get clean

They aren’t looking for their next hit
They’re scratching the fallacy off their skin

And I’m collecting dust
Adding my tears
Pressing
Bending
Molding
Drying
Clay
Into Hardened perfection

That understands
To
Shatter and break
Is to live.

-riv-