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Thursday, May 27, 2010

Builder

How could you think
your work is done?
My skull is soft
My mouth a gun
I gambled my youth
And gathered my pride
To launch in a lantern
on the river where Jeff Buckley died.

I did the strongest thing.
I did the strongest thing.
You can't feel past that ring
so you won't hear a word I sing.

I'm not your son
more like a sunset
I'm not homeless
Just haven't been home yet.

It's not as strange that you weren't around
As it is that you think you were.
I had half a world.
You left a wolf in a house of girls.

And when you wonder who I was
You'll ask the god who separates us
Your smile
your words
your laugh
have cut my face in half.

Your phone call is cancer
salt on my slug heart
you put shame in my wiring,
spliced absence with art
deep pockets for the new, but for the old family you're broke
You not-so-holy ghost
busted on both coasts.

you played the over-eager Abraham
you sacrificed your son before commanded
your blind enthusiasm turns my faith to atheism
you have no idea what I need and have no need to ask
the God you believe in wouldn't let this indifference pass
But you... everything surrenders
for you
everything's "surrender"
for you
everything surrendered.

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