Sunday, November 7, 2010

poem || Sheila E. Murphy

Quit Vesuviusing Around Reporting Your Bad Past

Shift gears! Take it outside the solar system!
Stop the proof-attempt at withering the just-bloomed maple light!
If this were snow, you'd blood it up!
I'm trying (please!) to simulate a prior sleep as intermission from
One lecture then another then another about how
Life has turned to
Nouns you shove into my face!

It's over with your dowdy wear
I'm going home to narrow range of human temperatures
Where I desire to hear thought sprint into a better thought
Where we can broadcast symptoms of capacity
Where we might notice vent-free truth
Where we might glow somewhere in search of tandem consonance
I'm tired of hearing you prove nothing ever works

If I had wanted to major in political geo-synthesis
I would have downed a jar of kiddie aspirin to mild my way
Through tribes and trials alike
I would not have heard you dither your way through
This cruelty and that
I would not relive what I hope never to live at all
Because you want the world
To know you are protected via your anatomy
Albeit small your anatomy nonetheless
As if this ever stopped anyone from feeling
Shrilled to death

I wish you would just venture into other rooms
And other moods
I wish the modest moon would go to sleep on you
And quiet down the hearth for me
And let me have my heart back
And let me notify my insides that it's safe
Again from forcing any one of us
To hear the horror played replayed and paved
With ocean stones remaining
Violently and indiscriminately unwashed

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