Holy Tithe

I saw a man today with zippers on his shoes and platforms in the news never stopped him from stepping in the street I ask him why he looks at the sky while bombs are blasting at his feet and he turned to me and softspoke lyricly of rainbows and starshine, moonshine and castles in the sky flying carpets and aladdin’s – mysterious like gempurple – lamp I saw a boy today with gold flecks in his eyes and in tremblehands he held a prize, the world. at his feet; he prayed. why god are we made this way? and why does this pain in my chest (such heavy feeling) set like a stone. in hurting others we hurt ourselves. why are so many blind to this paradox? and lock their rationaltics away for ideals and speals surreal. like a drug is the passion worth all the pain? I saw a mother daypregnant with worry for her daughters and sons and in such a hurry to love with all her heart because that was all she could give. I told her why don’t you leave this place. this wreaking ball place. but she smiled with a twinkle in her eye and told me such tales of scheherazade and her arabian k(nights and me nightpregnant with fear flee dustfloating notions that are my present circumstances and like shahryar immediatly suspicious the wheel turns and burns halfmooncircles into the skin and banishes all the compassion of the heart.