this beauty gots to even out the ugly
the motion gots to keep you steady
yet every day is just the same
left is right, this way is that way
the sun is square, the sky is brown
your sad is mad, your up is down
the beauty gots to even out this ugly
this hope gots to get you ready
how i found myself walking through the
forest of leaning trees is beyond me
but i like the landscape, the view
my eyeballs soaked it all up to
fill the void of missing you
I wonder if the Hulk ever hit his mother.
Did he ever graze her cheek
with his massive green fist so fast,
so hard, she couldn’t speak?
Throw her out of his room,
out the window, out of the house?
And I wonder if when he returned to normal,
did he recognize her scars, her hurt.
I bet he couldn’t remember–like him.
Darts his eyes from the display of pain.
Doesn’t move when she flinches away.
Doesn’t recognize the tears
because he can’t remain.
And I wonder if Stan Lee understands
what it really means to love the Hulk?
To stand in his way regardless.
The supernatural drive to help him stay calm,
despite the horror, despite the harm.
The relentless love at stake…
all the tender, godforsaken love it takes.
woke up and there was doom, so much
it was like I was drinking it from a cup
perhaps it’s because I dreamt of those black
ribbons that like to get tangled in my hair
that damned pretentious silk
I feel them now but I have to forage for
those twisted inky feminine cords
don’t you see them
you have to see them I swear
you insist they aren’t even there
I know I must give up my lost search
not question this pain on earth
long to walk without a step
breathe but not take a breath
just be and not let go yet
on this day of raindrops on our lips
wishing on vanishing rainbows
you told me you were happy it was gone
cause it demanded too much attention
but its departure left me useless
I’ll miss the purple clouds
and the pelicans floating
the horizon and the nodding sun
I’ll miss this feeling
that I don’t want to leave
once they removed their monstrous
parasols and offered the sun with all its
glory, I was able to see for miles,
see past the stains and all its gory.
walk past my long-limbed friends,
feel their gentle boughs crack upon me
wonder if that west window still
offers the view of diamonds and trees.
then without time to think, to blink,
they decide my time in the warmth
is done. parade their parasols atop
of me – flaunt like they won. close my
eyes quick and capture the burn, bid
the orange blaze to stain my gaze for days
weep over how much I’ll miss the sun.
it’s like torn glances
encouraging words unspoken
walking away when the other
is begging to stay
it’s the turn of the head
when you are about to look my way
it’s the absence in the air
it’s not giving a care
this gloom we dish out
it’s hardly fair
this must be what the seas of Greece look like,
so blue it looks white
the water so deceiving
this must be what normal feels like,
so chill it’s like sleep
the peace I hear it leaving
this must be what perfection tastes like,
so fake it seems real
the day it leaves me grieving
it’s freaking me out
this business of growing old
wanting my face to remain like stone
staying calm with one hand
resting over the other
waiting and tending to
this business of growing old