Fire

A guest post today by the irrepressible Kayleigh Wanzer. I really loved this so I wanted to share it.

You thought of life and pictured
more than this. I speak in tongues about
New England nights, perpetual Fall,
the comfortable silence between two people
who would always know each other.

My father makes my stepmother the same drink
every night before she arrives home from work.
This is the version of love that they have forged–
never having to drink alone.

I’ll say it quickly so you believe me—
I am sorry, sorry that I
don’t know the meaning of the words
that you scratch onto my back
when we lay in bed, when you are
grabbing me and saying,
turn over, whispering, come over.

And maybe you’re right,
maybe all we are is just
a mangled mess of
bones and secrets,
maybe it’s just our
muscles moving towards no real ending and
words that disguise wounds that
keep everything in.

We are driving and
I want to tell you about the way buildings look
like they’re on fire this time of day.
The leaves too, someone must have
struck a match. I can still
smell it burning in the air.

You take my hand and I lean toward you.
Let’s turn up the radio.

The world is on fire, the world is on fire.
I turn up the radio.

With the Living

Don’t you see I just don’t get along
With the pestering of governing
Heads and the headstrong

Cos they don’t see the lonely
Sitting in vacant rooms
They still believe in the imaginary
Old scattered Gold standard bones

So don’t please kid follow anything
That seems to make much sense
Cos if you do, your reacting
Will get you over the south fence

Oh I felt good once
When I actually heard some speak
But that was before this
Transformation into something that’s only weak

There is truth in fiction

mattpic2.jpg

Do you create boundaries in your dreams?
‘Cos I can mend together anything.
Anything can be created
and I believe in fiction

 Tell me what truth is in your transformed world
Is it anything like me
or do you just repeat?
Slow slow slow slow-ly
Say it til it don’t mean a thing
Scream until the word truly becomes a word
and ceases to exist.

Can’t you see the noise?
The waves smash ship and crack necks
whiplash broken face into a wooden post

There is no face now.
There are no eyes.
No sight.  No Smell.  No taste.

But – damn – can you hear?

I’ve got a water bottle filled with something that’s not water

mattpic2.jpg

I felt myself erupt into a thousand broken pieces.
If a jigsaw is a puzzle than what is a shattered window?
Or a mirror in shards on the tile floor?
You won’t get your answer on some leather couch
in some mood-lit office —
just shakes and shakes
and a bitter taste
of self abuse.
‘Cos she says it’s your responsibility.
Why didn’t you tell her?
Why didn’t you stand up for yourself?
Why?
You’ve been asking yourself these questions all along.
Isn’t she the new bully?
Aren’t you cornered?
Yeah –  you stop telling jokes, I suppose
when you’re picked apart under the microscope.
They’re no longer your problems —
it’s research, kid.
Hear “stand up” but stay seated.
That’s what I’m telling you
That’s what I’ve learned

To the Tune of…

Oh all the time you’ve wasted
on dreaming and sleeping in
Kid – you don’t get anything
and we’ll never let you win

Don’t think anymore
And please sell us your soul
We want your mind for dying
Follow us to feed the lion

Did they ever hear your call –
the gods you once dreamt of?
Well they’re not here
and we can hear
So just let go of control
and call your name at roll

We can melt down the furnace
or throw you right back in
We can soothe your boiled burns
and give you them again in turns

And Kid, we can see you’re tired
so come on and jump right in