What does that even mean?
You cannot have your cake
and have it eaten too.
It takes two to tango,
honey,
and talk is cheap.
So, I speak by the hour,
and pass collection
when the hook penetrates
your soft, upper palate.
Subverting patience
one expectation at a time.
I like to weaponize
existentialism -
it’s my kink.
I don’t even like the music,
I just know you
like me for listening.
What a ball,
a beautiful wedding.
So pulls the oxen
on cart.
Pardon me a moment
while I spiral
out of control here.
I did nothing
but watch
helpless
as the young
of my generation,
the gifted
and beautiful,
trapped themselves
in the same
dead ends
we hated the old
for wasting their
lives on.
I’m sorry.
From birth
your time,
they say,
will come.
Your family
excited,
the papers,
you sign.
Guns flare.
The uncles,
the grandads,
the fathers -
those left -
they say,
your time
will come.
You sign,
they cheer,
you fight,
they boo.
Your war
will come.
Scribbles 'n Bits 