It Is What It Is

by September 28, 2008 0 comments

I prefer that feeling.
That dried up feeling.
That spent feeling.
That empty feeling.
I dig it,
dig it hard,
when people are the worst to me.
The cruelest.
The most unkind.
I like it best when I
know it’s coming
like a familiar tune
like train cars
like regret.
I like it most when
I stick it out there
and am foolish
and it gets cut off with lazer precision.
I like it this way
because it’s comfortable
fucked up
I don’t like it when there’s attachment,
like quicksand,
like chattering laughter
like clouds.
I don’t like it when it seems like
a corner might turn
like time is a top hat
like Santa Elves and Easter Rabbits.
I hate it when the asphalt
slides away like cotton candy.
When sweet dreams spill over into
dark afternoons and solitude.
I hate it most when nothing
pretends in my mind
to be something.
When bees sting
and rain dances like a bugles mourn.
I hate it most when I care about anything
or anyone
or anywhere.
When days run away and
fingers snap like bowling pins.
I love it when
I fuck it all up.
When I’m blank tablet.
When there is no one.
When bells ring
iron bars clang
and words dance on paper.
I love it most when I’m alone
when I’m empty,
when I have no attachment.
when I’m burning like the blistering heat of
tomorrows melancholy sun.
I love it most when I’m empty,.
un dissolved
I love it most
when it’s over,
all said and done,
when I’m pounding like a hammer
deafening like a broken heart
sworn in like an imbasil
I love it the very very best when I hurt
because it’s a recognizable thing.
It’s something
It keeps me in line.
Keeps me from escaping wrongly,
strangling circumstance
becoming a butterfly
embracing civility.
I love it most when I’m in it
fucked up broken down
not surprised
I love it,
love it best
when it simply
is what it is.
is what it is.
is what it is.

Leave a Reply