Last Chance

Standard

as a big sun wanders out of a sky
i wonder,
if the the people we imagine
mightn’t fly,
flit past our shoulders and say
“well, you’ve done it again, love
one more night like this and we
call it quits”
yeah, the ground is more inviting
when it echoes as it hits.

i’m not sure where it’s gone,
that touchstone i built,
(built like a fortress and i
die like a fortress)
built in the sand
my own thoughts in every gram.

(burn,
as the flames licked a
navy blue.
i was stuck with your
fingertip eyes
as we made love to 
a mind
and a deep dark hue)

all things considered,
i shouldn’t even be able to
speak a cogent sentence anymore,
only stare at the wall and
grin,
thinking
are you sure they’re on their way?
cuz mommy promised,
and daddy promised–
aw look! the man on tee vee looks just like daddy!
pray for daddy!
take away the telly,
make him happy!

the touchstones are all fuzzy now—
—dangerously close to distortion
and when they’re—touched
the hand goes straight through them
—like a knife
much for reality, i say,
old lover!
—-so much for your
razor straightened teeth and your
strange byronic nights!

Copyright 2016 Golden Star Poetry 

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