Joys and the More Rugged Dials
Beyond Tomorrow's land we wore ancient robes.
Carrying crows until blisters burst from concrete clouds.
I remembered your name in the mold of a scattered song.
Lifted was my body through a castrating light.
Golds, greens, and my uncle's lost salamander.
The pain that pushes and tosses takes all forms.
Just like the joys and the more rugged dials riveting inside you.
Trampling afoot father's garden you forsake your own belly-aching.
Buy-the-ticket-take-the-ride, drink-the-gravy-and-get-over-the-hill.
Everyday flashes with the flapping of a film reel.
Take heed of your vices and waste not your days.
They'll always be a another garden, a new song, some dog named Jojo.
Keep your eyes open and your mind more so as we drift ever further.
Copyright © Matt Caliri | Year Posted 2016
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