no mas
No mas
No mas
I spin ‘round the blender of the Argus
Trees flutter differently
Fluttering nonetheless
No mas
I want a warning if the water is coming for us
This place looks digested and purely fat
Oh, honey, but it isn't all that bad
You didn't say it was good either.
You didn’t have to say anything
A bird with a shot wing isn’t made enough room on the branch to sing
I’d sing for him
But I'm human
And the parables and fables dont use those funny things
No mas
Words fall cryptically into a cyclone
Busy bees siphon the oxygen and take it home
The waste is taxable
A scrap is still a meal, isn’t it?
Do with it like a charlatan
We’re the scientists of the future
The philosophers with poetry in our gardens
No mas
No more conversations
The vagrants and the excluded lepermen are the only seats left open
Everyone is waiting for something to happen
And my family is waiting for me
To be the someone they presumed me by twenty
Ceilings drip with drainage, and no one has the money to fix it
Leaky pipes in heaven
We fill chalices and wine glasses and make our own oblivion
And I dont always mind it
The gods kill with hands risen from the dirt
And devices of fire brewed by a thousand earths
Sent with regards from the church
No mas, unless the grass looks like it did
Like it did before
In imaginarium with the neighbor girl, sunburnt
Eyes blink
The chain link stands between us
With lawnchairs on either side like spaceships
Entangled in the stars, as a world peels apart right in the center of our yard
And we didn't seem so far that day
No mas, because the past is a moving car with windows
I see behind me, and I see it’s been a road running infinitely
The past doesn’t exist any longer
More a writer of fantasy who lives in my brain like a chimney sweep
Showing me things that will be covered once again by running feet
Time has shown its wisdom in the way in which it bleeds
It spills over me like sweat as I escape bad dreams
Artillery at the borders
Hunger in the city centre, and it crawls like a penitent
No mas, please return to sender
My pretty glimpse of sun curls into my shoulder and listens as I sigh
I think that I'd love for us to be parents to some genius daughters with coffee colored eyes
But I dont want them to tread this order
They’ll take food from somebody
Dining in a home that’s ostesibly gaudy
I fear it’s no longer simple
We can’t just recreate fictions until they’re sweet again
A scrap is still a meal, right?
No mas
I’d like to have a moment before I talk
I learned just enough Spanish so that I could do so
No mas
Until I’ve seen something
Something believable
Anything that my eyes could confidently credit as a miracle
I dont do anything but look
And wait
I dont particularly enjoy the book
But I see it as a place with an end
One that could be happy
No mas
Until a day survives a tragedy
And I dont describe an ill-fitted anomaly
Until our babies walk a mile to the sea with smiles and pajamas from old blanket
Speaking of weird places like Texas
And their bed is in a home rich with potential
No mas
Until the Alps are covered with ocean
And all things are merely coincidental