Thursday, July 29, 2010

Unparallel Rabbits


Unparallel Rabbits

I guess it couldn't last -
this burrow that we keep,
this haven from the feast

We hear them in the day
we see them in our sleep
you said you wanna leave

You want to see the world
and figure out what's left
I know what I saw I want to rest
We got breakfast cereals galore
but you say the milk's gone bad
I'm thinking, "Is that a metaphor?"

You say what at first felt safe,
now feels trapped
and making love in this place
is just a tribute to the past
but I have no complaints -
I block out the screaming
with the sound system found in the back

I say the problem isn't us
it's a world insisting on itself
but you insist there's no health
to be found just eating off the shelf

You put your hand on my heart
and push me back a little
like you want to be apart
or maybe want to make it start up again
Baby, I know that I'm starting to act just like them...
numb,
spent

I feel verbally inept
I can't say the reassuring things that you need me to say
so I just say, "It's killing us to fight this way,"
and you reply,
"What killed us was a succession of ordinary days"
And I resent the past tense
I wanted to defend the thing
but now we're hearing shots from the roof
and here this clean army boy drops through the vent,
calling you by name!
If this is rescue, then why'd you look ashamed?

There is no greater pain than the misaligned break -
the varied healing tempos of the giver and the take
and here I'd suffered at the thought of her on her own
but all the while myLove had been servicing the telephone

There is no greater pain than the misaligned break -
the varied healing tempos of the giver and the take
when you can't syncopate your process
with the one who leaves,
you focus less on your direction
and more on your speed

I see blood and gore
and love turned war
You want to see for yourself?
Baby, what for? What for?

He hands me a flare gun
I promise to join them soon...

There's shooting on the roof,
a chopper taking off,
the pungent smell of rot
I look up in time to catch one fall into the shop -
she didn't close the hatch!

Gnashing in a pile then rising to its feet,
I fire into its teeth

This one is just a scout!
In a few short breaths the ceiling's raining mouths

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