Beginnings to End

They said it was an ending in and of itself,
the heart carefully placed upon the shelf.

It had no refuge, no place to call its home,
but gathering dust kept it from being alone.

The heart was full, energetic and complete,
but homeless merit offers no room to beat.

Hearts shelved for reasons unrepeated here
glitter faceless in the faces of those so dear.

Which brings these words a sense of purpose,
and offer eyes that scan them stories thus.

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History’s Body

The body of history lies before us full of holes,

through which time currents flow.

Rivers gather themselves together,

regardless of what age does to them –

possessive wars, worn bottoms, decayed hope.

People try to smoke the years away,

holding up the earth’s handkerchief.

Starry crabs are reflected in the sky.

History’s story is small in invention.

Memory smiles in the room of tradition.

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Options Unlimited.

Now you don't get to pick
Who your parents are
And there's no telling how
Things will turn out
And it's a gradual
Learning curve
As you waken in this world
And some things I remember
Are well and good

Things like...

Always having Mad magazines lying around,
Even before I could really
understand
the concept
Of satire

Things like...

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