Wednesday, August 20, 2014


rotten down to the bottom
the roots the core
the part where I touch the earth
penetrate with each pounding step
the echoing vibes doing nothing
other than change everything
my ambition is to be your poet
the one you turn to in your most lost times
the times when you want nothing more
than a voice that will pick you up
like an over-tired toddler
hoist you up gently
put your grumbling tummy
against the warm pulse of their heart
your cheek pressed bouncing on their shoulder
whispering to you in your tiny reddened ear
how everything will be alright
how that feeling we’re all feeling will eventually subside
how it all really will be alright
but I am not that man
giant though I am
I have to bounce you bounce you
make you punch yourself in the face
choke your wrists with my fists
and make you slap
saying, “Why do you keep hitting yourself?!”
shake you shake you shake shake shake
you like a doll with a loose head
with a bad habit like mine
of constantly ceaselessly
taking things

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