My Crumpled Thoughts

(CRUMPLED THOUGHTS POETRY CONTEST) When you hear the clamor of the birds loud shrieking shockingly it shouldn’t frighten you they simply don’t realize the magnitude of the head of sand that gets washed away onto your shoulders and violates sanctity. Did you realize that just one single piece of toast preferably marbled rye would be the kind that could wield so much history so much jam that much influence? It can be awfully precarious so awkward especially when it isn’t steady you aimlessly paying no mind. No care in covering the edges why would you? Lions don’t bolt out of the the jungle just because they are bored oh no, they take their time they lie in wait they explode off the line they will maul you gorge you rip you open dead. It’s kind of like that so slow realization that rain seems somehow louder at night so much more romantic than it does in the blinding sun of day in the light of a closer introspection a deeper meaning but yes you already surely knew that didn’t you? Tobacco stains looked so worldly on that old man from Gunga Din, he didn’t seem to be bothered that you stared at him as his stubby yellowed fingers flicked boogers the size of grapes onto the stained scum of pavement strewn with paper and s.h.i.t. Three times around the dread moon should buy you enough time to figure things out the silly things you hold so goddamned dear just be careful because they are all like honey from the spilt jar: still sticky so relevant barely manageable drying up. Don’t go rummaging through the forest when the trees are closely huddled there are secrets and lies and hypocrisies surely you will quick unravel at the first crossroads end up spitting your teeth into the quiet milieu all gums and no bite harmless in every way. Sit and sob of things you thought you knew things that fell out of the hole in your pocket if you do you’ll end up wandering the floor like an addict pining away for the hit that will end the suffering of all suffering that will bring the great expanse homeward. Never crossed your mind that impermanence rhymes with happenstance in an off-rhyme kind of way? That all the saviors through time are dead carcasses in someone else’s silly idea of a novel and so leave it to you to squeeze toothpaste tube from the middle did you forget you were toothless? So drift dream cry scream it’s all the same during a dance with the day come what may delight in all the small details you think are so precious that you think are so important it still belies the fact that at this time now you are out of jam. What a shame.