deepundergroundpoetry.com

The mute button is fantastic

I will clean this house
tear the gold
twisty
dented
door knobs
off the yellow daylights smile
delicate
dream
dancing
do you recall
when i said i Love you
throw the couch out in the yard
this year has gone to shit
or did it slap me
with a salt shaker
so i could taste
what i was doing to myself

i will clean this house
take a hammer to every mirror
just to hear that sweet
sweet
breaking sound
i've reflected on my actions enough
burn my clothes
in a green oil drum
like a hobos fire in the front yard
ferocious
as the neighbors peek out their windows
whisper
in front of christmas trees
blinking red,green,and blue
this ant farms getting crowded

i will clean this house
lady luck spit in my face
kissed me
then pushed me down a flight of stairs
how rude
wring out the towels to rot
birdseed scattered
all over the piss covered carpet
the vacuum cleaner has been vacant
violence in the vineyard
it takes 3 years for a grape vine to grow
i took the hedge clippers and a hacksaw
i had a hunger for the purple pulp

the blue soft walls of my half cubical
on an island of scorpios
i can see where i spun you in my arms now
throwing rocks from the highway just to hit parking lots
thought lost
but used every day by the simple stage hand assistants
i'll help you replace that light if it goes out
even if the bulb is too big to be
carried by a crane
the show must go on
Written by samael (Zaroff poetry)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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