A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, hindered by periphery. |
We would really like to know If ever I'm perfect they'll dismantle me maybe, study me but mostly, do away with me We lost paradise once Tirelessly, must settle for imperfection? I hand her the correct change she says perfect I complete their application submit, he looks it over perfect Making an appointment I respond to need of contact info Verbal utterance echoes on the line perfect You can't call me back Unable to process my application I passed counterfeit bills (coins I can't mint) You don't know me I could be the person trying to undo all that is perfect, "functional" within the frequencies, communes of coexistence, governed society, aiming with just one word — perfect Perfect? Do you hear yourself? What's perfect about correct address? You've never been here I could live in squalor police sirens blaring, cars jacked — a militarized zone, mortar shells perfect bullets rip past down my street as I take the car out again and it performs as it should on journey to my next 'perfect' when I stop (while it rolls independently) to consider, then pat the fading dash from my leather-creased, captain's chair inside a rusty hull, bumper cracked radio-sometimes-working, beaut of a machine and say 'you're what's perfect'... even though, you aren't. If I don't appreciate all imperfection and what functions, necessitating a weary life keeping me going up this hill we're on before the six foot drop off or crusher, then I must admit between here and where eternity ends I might make it to perfect... Envisioning a white cloud airily lifting me close enough to touch bluest heaven and no one will see I'd keep it to myself between me and the Chevy We'll both drive off that cliff before we'll let anyone dissect us. We are what we are and it ain't perfect Okay, good, thank you, I have all that I need... unless there's something more? 12.16.22 62 lines (free verse} Best Long poem I've written in sometime, if ever. a little, annoying word on the lips of many little minds, more functional than me. and you know what else I don't care for? indifference. |