A porcelain Orson Wells adorns the window sill
in this living room.
I can't confide in
the tiny little bust anymore
than you.
Please don't wear your teeth away
on words you've used before.
They're bitter like the earwax, where perhaps they have habits of landing.
If I'm stranded on a deserted couch,
and the carpet is lava
then what pillows make the best lilly pads?
QUICKLY!
The sofa is a sinking ship!
In our crisis you caught me smiling.
I'm not denying it, but truth be told
I'm not really smiling-any-more.
Broomstick oars.

Sliding down a flight of stairs; waterfall
in sleeping bags; canoes
keep a look out for sea monsters;
Goldy the Yellow Labrador.
After all,
her tongue is more poisonous than an emperor
scorpion, amazonian dart frogs,
or even a king cobra.
Coping with divorce
through force fields where Orson Wells is the Holy Grail
and a cure to all things bad.
Where'd Dad go?
I don't much care for this abusive bastard imitation.
I certainly don't got an "Uncle Rob".
My God, I tried to love you
but I-
I think I fell short.

The enemies in these day dreams
are people that I've come to be very familiar with.
Balled up fists
TAG! You're it!
I can't stand to pretend anymore
I tend to bend the universe into something more suitable
than the crucible we call the day to day making of ends meet.
I'm dead meat!
If the hallway piranhas hop on the bandwagon
attacking and nibbling away at these little 5-year-old legs.
But I'm rounding out 24
WHERE HAS MY FAMILY GONE!!!
Posing in a Photograph just outside the front door.
I shouldn't BE here,
this is just a memory!
Get ME away from here!!
You took ME here
now take ME home.
Where has MY living room gone!?

04/07/2008

Author's Note: i've tackled this before, but i've yet to feel like the horse is dead.

Posted on 04/07/2008
Copyright © 2010 Nickolas Crosby