Soft Work

Perhaps the things we do in life
do not add to much
Certainly we try
to make it all pay

We try to be true to our calling
remember our calling is true

But we change
the world changes
even the universe changes
slowly

You've changed.
I've changed.
slowly

I've decided.
To grow out my hair.

This does not count for much.

I've decided.
To play a game obsessively.
Sometimes until I pass out.

People will not be impressed.

I've decided.
Even though last night.
I threw up when I awoke.

The taste of acid was rough.
My stomach felt better without
its contents.

I'm tired of being a blimp.
Again, this doesn't count for much.

Fat Americans are not something unknown.
Sadly.

The angel descends
to your dresser
and knocks over the blessed virgin
so you know
to obey
your mother

And still you don't.

My car is wrecked.
My life resembles broken glass and splinters

I cling to the supercell
of dark hope and driving rain
and lost wishes and pain

And you.
Fading.

Further.
And further. Away.

I dig.
The ley lines coursing beneath my village.

Searching.
Hoping.

The evening brings the mosquito
with soft wing
and sharp tongue
and I know I will need to stop him
and so my eyes return.

Forced.
And now.
Fun.

And one by one.
I make them pay.