22
Jan
10

The Elevator

Why are we all so scared of one another?

The Elevator

As we step on
She hits my button
Then starts jabbing the one
That keeps us pent together.
Then, doesn’t acknowledge me at all
Just stares into the callboard,
Waxes her lips, pockets the chapstick
Staring even harder at the buttons.
She never sees me, refusing to – I. don’t. exist, here.
Until we reach G* and tilts her head
Obtusely like saying: “You walk out first
so I can see who I shared this intimacy with”
and I reply by darting out the doors, like “Why
are people so damn scared of one another?”

Its easier – I have to believe its sympathy,
Even self-sympathy. We’re all just so frightened.

Forget the coffee I’ve come for
And Proust left on tenth floor.
Hurdle out western doors,
Into unconditional rain.

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1 Response to “The Elevator”


  1. 1 hillary
    February 19, 2010 at 3:08 pm

    1 – I’m glad I finally took a visit here, and I enjoy this one very much.
    2 – Whattya think?

    Stand on the Edge

    the woman with breast implants is asking me a question
    “do you have a grip now, boy, have you learned your lesson?”
    the man with tattoos on his face reminds me with a laugh
    “your fates set in stone and theres no turning back”

    the whore who’s hosting plenty asks me why I’m empty
    you will be too now, ive drained whoevers met me
    and the officer is smiling as he french inhales
    askin “what kinda kid dont believe in fairy tales?”

    the infant with white eyes is saying to me
    “i’d give anything if i could just make you see”
    and the immortal man tries to pressure my soul
    asking would i “rather sell it or carry the load?”

    arthur tells me “there’s poison in the wine, call it takin the edge off”
    darrell tells me things are gonna be fine just because he said so

    alice approaches, a basket in her hand,
    and asks me for “all of my eggs”, if you understand
    and tom is just a joke but who will laugh last?
    i’d say he and I have a 50/50 chance

    and satan knocks gently, requesting a word
    with grace and a purpose he slips through the door
    “well if you give me your soul, your essence and core,
    i can repay you with something of equal value or more”

    and jesus is passive, addressing me last
    he’s tired and dirty and talks in a gasp
    “why the hell you’d let him in, that filth and that swine?
    i can sense his very presence as he can sense mine.”

    and no one has made it easy
    or convinced me just yet
    that i should abandon my logic
    and stand on the edge


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The reason for all this is not reasonable. The reason, strictly art, Still makes no sense to me.

The Wheel

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