Post by mfwilkie on Dec 21, 2007 20:06:31 GMT -5
We’ve done this before-
you read, I smoke and listen
then have my way with the
eccentricities of your ear.
At worst,
we’re a curious film noire, opting
for brass instead of strings to heighten
our escape from the drape of a common
protagonist, the mis-directed mind-fog
fed for years with the skepticism we caved
into in not acknowledging our otherness
as poets.
Maybe it’s knowing the age and theory
of words, the search for the purity in
such sounds which has driven us to give
in and reach for the survival of original
minds separately, and together.
We’re standing here, on the third floor
of our lives, in dated underwear and
monogrammed capes, taking an extreme
chance with our dreams— yet, I have the
sense our odd romance is more comedy
and relief, more dogged perseverance and
belief, worth more, and much harder
to play than any form of make-believe.
Merry Christmas, you old fart!
you read, I smoke and listen
then have my way with the
eccentricities of your ear.
At worst,
we’re a curious film noire, opting
for brass instead of strings to heighten
our escape from the drape of a common
protagonist, the mis-directed mind-fog
fed for years with the skepticism we caved
into in not acknowledging our otherness
as poets.
Maybe it’s knowing the age and theory
of words, the search for the purity in
such sounds which has driven us to give
in and reach for the survival of original
minds separately, and together.
We’re standing here, on the third floor
of our lives, in dated underwear and
monogrammed capes, taking an extreme
chance with our dreams— yet, I have the
sense our odd romance is more comedy
and relief, more dogged perseverance and
belief, worth more, and much harder
to play than any form of make-believe.
Merry Christmas, you old fart!
