At the Brink of the Earth

This life is a silhouette of dancing flames, A jelly of a million billion shapes, a fathomless illusion, a plotless sequel. There is more to see for the blind and less to say for the wise. This life is a carpet freckled with splinters, A sofa of countless stingings, a flameless subway; There is a floorless due for every seen sun, A tear rolling with every dawn and a smile ebbing with every dusk; But these bonfire eyes see the world for what it could be. This life is a soulless sea of mindless malice, A banjo of a broken taut, a loveless disco; There is no blue in the skies of reason But pangs native to the heart, and a haplessness relative to the soul; But this bubble-gum heart holds no resentment. Every tongue is a needle living in a scabbard of flesh and bone And these staggering legs walk the sass of nameless faces, For my elephant ears choose what to hear And the fount of this mouth speaks only what the heart feels. Every turn of this screw, every moment of this gear Every shade of this my buoyant life is written in crayon. 03/12/16