24 May 2011 § Leave a comment
a cold name set out on
display to the world:
a to-do list of all the
things we’re made of.
I jumped ship halfway through the battle,
so as to fight for my own side.
I guess no one else was going to.
Jack built his own greenhouse,
after the whole beanstalk thing,
and only giants go to heaven,
did he tell you that?
yeah, he served up tamales
with jalapeno, parsley and cheese,
and grew the finest green
this side of you and your departure.
meet me at the eyelids,
so we can look away
and tell our fibs in private.
they’ll be juicy and fruity
just like the truth is:
I’ve got a saturday lunch at two o’ clock
with the fifth horseman of the apocalypse.
after that, we’re going shopping
for some panic and anxiety.
I tracked down some information
on the goon behind heaven’s creation.
Found him hiding out
in a Minneapolis crackhouse,
passing out pamphlets
advertising the apocalypse
as an internet sensation.
Love in back in business,
said the salesman to the trend.
It’s down the block,
next to the laundromat –
and he pointed to a window
covered in post-it notes and bulletholes,
but had no light inside.