Delta40
05-21-2011, 07:25 PM
The Ascension blares through timber slats
and hits me, kapow between the eyes.
Bruised swellings of what I was going to be
expose themselves unnoticed.
The Mayan calendar promises me
(yes it did remember?)
that the world is going to end.
It has to because my existence is a one thousand sheet roll of unbleached toilet paper.
Recycled and single ply but I keep going on and on.
That's what he tells me over and over.
Every Friday night, he snorts thoughts
through pasta bake and I think,
here we go again.
Don't you realise I just want this motion to pass?
Let the Earth's volcanoes erupt!
I won't flee from the molten flow.
Not when I shape and model the battered face of conflict.
The fractured pins of my feet sink into the orange shagpile.
That Tull ring tone vibrates against my breast.
Laughter in my ear about the absurdity of May 21st.
Perhaps others share my ascension sunset at six o'clock
but with crutches.
and hits me, kapow between the eyes.
Bruised swellings of what I was going to be
expose themselves unnoticed.
The Mayan calendar promises me
(yes it did remember?)
that the world is going to end.
It has to because my existence is a one thousand sheet roll of unbleached toilet paper.
Recycled and single ply but I keep going on and on.
That's what he tells me over and over.
Every Friday night, he snorts thoughts
through pasta bake and I think,
here we go again.
Don't you realise I just want this motion to pass?
Let the Earth's volcanoes erupt!
I won't flee from the molten flow.
Not when I shape and model the battered face of conflict.
The fractured pins of my feet sink into the orange shagpile.
That Tull ring tone vibrates against my breast.
Laughter in my ear about the absurdity of May 21st.
Perhaps others share my ascension sunset at six o'clock
but with crutches.