Issue #50


[Incredibly old, newly rewritten.  Probably the very first poem I wrote about becoming an atheist, but even now it resonates.  Something for the nerds out there.]

You called
To end the night on a thought
Only to regret your need
Before you sleep, words on your breasts
“Why are you?
“Why?”
Nothing said is nothing gained
Nothing lost, either

Ask me what it was like to be a child
And I’ll say, “I don’t know.”
Ask me what it was like to be a superhero
And I’ll say, “The mask hurt.”
They gave us the charge
A villain bent on destruction
The fate of the earth in our hands
And with it, our mom’s happiness

We looked like children
We lived like damned men
Our cereal boxes poured out sugar and demons
The shoulder kind
Trouble was always a glance away
With the lights out
We saw the sign in the sky
The morning’s gone, nothing but night

I stood, face front, in my civilian clothes
Center stage for a passing parade
A true believer, but they admonished,
“You’re too smart for your own good.”
They were right, I’m no longer good
The air got in and I spoiled
I ripened early and busted on the floor
Then there were only pieces of the family

We looked like grown ups
We lived like vigilantes
They told the newspapers,
“These heroes have failed us.”
Then sent us out to save ourselves
My mom died and was born again
And tomorrow she’ll go again
Now only living to die

We creep the roofs
Covered in shadows
With no one to rescue
Our veins coursing with salvation

You ask me why I carry so much weight
And I say, “It’s all I know.”
I’m living the life of a mortal
With the vision of an immortal
Forgive me if sometimes I see past you
Life is a slow motion blur
But from time to time I stop
To take your call

*


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2 thoughts on “Issue #50

    • As always, I appreciate you reading, glad to have a loyal audience (even if just of one).

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