Thursday, August 11, 2011

Maybe Even Now

Maybe I'll forgive you
for what I'm becoming to you, now.
Once I thought people would come
to me for more than what I could sell them.
I can generate worth and harm. My days
blow by, I look at them sometimes
and think I won't regret this sensation.
I can lift my hands and wave them
above my head signifying surrender
or goodbye goodbye. We are not moving
across the landscape in a motorized anything.
We are the landscape and we are fading
into it. Look, what's so stunning is this morning
and you can't buy it. All lonesome and slow,
we're getting ready for something really
great so be sure to bring your Sunday best
secondhand stuff and burn it in a pile.
Flaming acrylic gives off the best light of all.
I'm your friend, all you need to do is worship me.
Anyway, people talk too much, so when those
areas of light shine in such a way, get there fast.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

May I just say I love this poem?
Well I do.

10:47 AM  

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