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aayoung

Poetry, Prose, Art, Photography, Random Shit

trying to throw your arms around the world

U2 is spinning on the turntable

achtung, baby

arguably their best album

trying to throw my arms your arms around the world

as i sort through my life

purging

packing

moving on to this next chapter

having raised boys into men

clearing the detritus

of four lifetimes

of mistakes

losses

victories

regrets

hearts broken

hearts mended

lessons learned

love found

all this living done

and tomorrow night

stars will find a way

to fill the sky

fallen petals

it is the poet
who is brought to tears
by the sight
of flowers dying
in a vase

if you’re reading this

if you’re reading this
you must understand
that every poem
is a message in a bottle
set adrift
on an ocean of lifetimes
looking for
a happenstance
recipient
i am shipwrecked
on my island of savage words
i do not wish to be rescued
please
place the scroll back in the bottle
cork it
toss it back to the sea
this poem has more traveling to do
thank you for conspiring with me

40

you rationalize
justify
all you want
age 40
is the doorway
to the latter half
of your life
thoughts and prayers
and other useless platitudes
to those struggling to catch up
but
if you haven’t found your way by now
you never will
i have loved
owned a ridiculously big house
lived in the best school district
driven luxury cars
worn designer clothes
mounted men with huge cocks
and still i was left
wanting
unfulfilled
i was surviving
not living
because the only pure bliss
is freedom of choice
autonomy
the ability
to not give
a single fuck

kill the radio

it’s your voice
that always got to me
you damned well knew it
causing me to explode forward
bloody haired
through the windshield
of our history

Christmas Eve

she adorns her hair

with holly leaves

cardinals singing carols on

her sweater sleeves

crushed rose petals lips

angels for earrings

a scarf woven of silvery tinsel

each candle lit

a prayer for earth

sent to the mail room in heaven

all this

and a love poem

on Christmas Eve

 

crazy glue

your heart
is going to get broken
because i have decided
to piece together
mine

blank generation

i’ve seen the best minds
of my generation
fail to know about anything
that existed prior to 1980
historically culturally politically
unless it could be read
off a baseball card
a cereal box
or an infomercial scroll
during *Nick -at-Nite*
we are the great feckless mass
of scratch and sniffing
trapper keeping
garbage pail kid
consumer children
left
with no direction
on the living room floor
to play with colorful hunks of plastic
while our parents
watched Dallas and Dynasty
then
fucked the
neighbor next door

frankly, my dear…

the south is on fire
not in that charming
general sherman sort of way
the north is unemployed
so they elected a german
grand wizard of real estate
to be our next failure
son of a scottish housekeeper
who makes jokes about émigré
the west is busy crushing red Indians
our national past time has always been
genocide and polluting waterways
take heart, americans
there were only mass stabbings yesterday
and i’m fairly sure
lady liberty just miscarried
baby new year
blood is running down ellis island
into muddied waters of the bay
melt down the scales of justice
brass knuckles
will have their say

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