Poems 1.4 (maybe now this is a poetry blog)

can we do it?

how can we do it?

(fuck capital letters, such idle time is wasted to capitalize a "T" for the use of what? for the sake of dignity? I say to hell with that and give me your lion.)

can we stand out, naked, in the snow and welcome the hug of the stabbing winds?

can we toss our heads back and cackle into the white-blue night without the voice of doubt creeping in? or Saturn?

or maybe this is Saturn...standing in the driveway of your mother's home yelling out your sins to the quite midwest town where the people sit in their homes watching tv.

there in incense on the nightstand.

no no, that's much too liberal here. we only like candles.

(little do they know the fragrance of those candles is seeping through their skin, into their body and slowly aiding their demise.)

but when I tell them, they don't care.

then, I am an outsider.

this was the entire point of the poem! ha!

to share your soul with the ones who've loved you....with the ones who knew you before you found yourself.

for everything you say is a nuisance. (everything I say.)

I have become the nagging fly bringing news of ignorant self-destruction and killing and murder.

and the lamp glows with an ominous knowing under painted lily pads, swirling the secrets I'll only know answers to on the dusk of the 12th house.