The Fall

by learned

Posted to Poetry on 2002-10-16 09:20:00

houses full of screaming phones
look at me
because i’m sitting waiting
no one is over here
but no one comes to save you or me

permenantly rolled up
with softly music
no atmosphere
except that to block out the trains
but you still don’t look at me

ting ting ting ting ting

all we have is home
and nowhere on the road
travelling is buying a ticket
and sleeping through the journey
while houses fall to the ground
christians remind the dirt to fall down walls
and ruin our shoes
moosalums are now just death
and effagies to burn
while you sit in your cot
pretending you never grew
out of it
leaving my bed empty
and too small even for me

the dogs were happy wild
but we regimentally feed them
and leave them alone with nothing
but punishment for crying
and being sad

i can’t walk anywhere without
desperation for an imagined companion
to nullify any real desire to go
get some

books deserve to be stolen
but the guilt keeps
a shakey corruption
uncorrupted
with us too busy sneezing
to do anything
or think anything
other than curse OURSELVES (!)
for being too poor or proud
to afford the (?) drinks
we want

unless you can be told everything
you know nothing
but soap boxes are full of lunatics
filling us with fear
and iron gated dreams
of straight and very narrow

i will go for another drink
because i don’t care
that i have almost no money
or that it is too early
because you afford me the privelage
of always
being able to get money
from parents who can’t afford
to give me half as much as
they do
and the guilt will only
make me more exploitative
and more drunk