I watch you dream in circles
razor guarded halos chasing carbohydrate pride

unpruned with redefined pulse
turning heads as you shout texts free from past dues
leading cadence in the parade of the self-maimed
seeking drink as some form of invisible divorce

as you sully for Rome
I wish your eyes could turn around
to recapture future wasted years
destined for a long winter’s sleep

during your nickel tour,
your mirror will show fissures in the world you created
if you choose to listen
your God will tell you of your legacy,
that most tears are shed due to unanswered prayers
reasonable or otherwise

partnered with the souls of the unprepared
but, you knew that going in

a distant friend whispers a muffled fortune
“boxcars are pulling a carnival of sorts out of town”

my repressed Jewishness becomes less mute each day
instinctively looking for the metrics of fair play
to sever the loss of another sparrow
still saddened that you listen only when spoken to loudly

more beacons for you to ignore, pressing further for
shortcuts toward finding the long way home.

05/17/2009

Author's Note: Quote courtesy of REM: "Carnival of Sorts" from their Chronic Town EP.

Posted on 05/17/2009
Copyright © 2025 Dan Kasten