apathysmuse23

amiable and careless are they in their gravity those ancient balding scholars walking the kitschy streets (almost empty amid the dust and the dusk) their clever voices lilted in argument —why, theirs are the most desirable voices in the world—haughty and confident but oh so deserving of their swagger and I smile as I watch them go I long to be like them those Philosophers too serious and too proud as they wander on their way debating eudaimonia into the night.

Speak to me of philosophy and jazz your fingers sweaty against the crinkled pages     (mine cool against the vinyl) Remind me of Kant Descartes Aristotle Plato Hume Mills     (dutycogitoergosumidealismmaterialismskepticmoralcalculus) Play the records play Armstrong Coleman Davis Coltrane     (play it till our souls burst into constellations from the beauty of it but mostly from the pain) Take me to dusty libraries lonely and still population you and I     (too dark in the silence of dead knowledge) Or to dance halls aching with sound music screaming LIFE

so when your tired crotchety bane melts at last [crusted and sticky with dried glue tasting of cherry cough syrup and trigonometry] well then. you will be defined as That. that thing of scattered war photo graphs and the aroma of burnt rubber (tracks fresh and black on the asphalt); wilted and sweaty it lumbers between passengers, the airducts of faceless banks—finally clammy as it comes to rest in the very marrow of that tree. our tree. his branches heavy with bug-speckled sap and crumbling ropes from tire swings long forgotten.

they deserve to love two men two women two twice try my patience, I beg you not a morality issue it's a person issue the right to love should never be up for debate.

stretching and gnawing away shamelessly but   failing at the last moment to release. anticlimactic and. mildly stolid. am I now between the rack and the hard place? is the passion too ancient ?—the maudlin fears that will plague until I bow to the longing. that putrid ripoutyourheart urge to master the control and why yes, it does pull at your stomach shifting transforming  nipping and tucking away up and over and exposed ribcage clinging to your body like superglue. fuck college perfection was never so ugly.

hang the wash to dry hang the thief at noon and yes we wonder are we but laundry, and if so, where do we go from here?

shingles, count them as they slide and watch solidity broken falling dissolved— when the palace comes crumbling to dust (amid the jeers and lullabies) in what shall we believe?

we do not fade to black, but we fade until we are invisible. which is worse?

ignore the damsel in distress for if she lasts the trial she may actually become self-aware.

bask in its tepid insensitivity that pungent odor reeking from the justified and the saints and dear, please wallow the guilt is like sugar to sweet tea your heroic speeches and revolting prose but touch the masses and not I, for though they be deceived I see you.

waving goodbye to the lane that we once separately walked on so the method of observation can be quite a shock so while others strike upon with displeasure what is love? the question that winds upon the books that always been misread skin and bones? surely we're just really wandering souls a grip from a typical brief of dis-enjoyment is caused by people with no capability of positive thinking love blooms in every direction however filth disturbs it from arriving with the visions with such answers are caught up in a web that we all believe constraints us all We're singing to be welcomed to a home can we just realize love brings us clo