Tuesday, April 2, 2013

That Thing Poets Do In April: 2/30

To The Voice In My Little Brother's Head After His First Crash

Buttery goodness of silver dollar flappys

Whack-a-do shit, and all things "Happy"
Mondays are paraded as the whipping boy
It's Tuesday
Something must take its place
The kill joy that ended your weekend vacation from everything relevant
Turned "Turn Up" into "YOLO"
I'm glad that you and him are still here

The Holocaust

Mere child's play to a father
Asking questions he already knows answers to
Cares not to hear the answers for
Just wants to watch your brain
Melt into a vexed puddle of goo
And see it spill clear out of your eyes
Like water

You will be re-built 

Don't keep count
Time is payment to the living
You have been paid in punishment
I'm glad you and him are still here

Disconnect from social media 

All seeing eyes on everything
Few will understand what they see in you
After all, it's hard to be surprised these days
Realty TV is not, really/
So, the crazies aren't crazy if we're all in on it
That's called "normal"
Easy to stomach
Everything else is "ab-normal"
Be careful
"Brand New" scares fools easily
More so clones,striving to be extra-ordinary
Control all these things
Above all
Though I was shocked to see the two of you
I'm glad you and him are still here

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