Apr 1, 2009

A conversation part 662.8 (jarf sleepy)

me: your hatred continues
and it saddens me deeply
the ole jarf
bayin at the moon
wishin for some good news from the bat
getting nothin but screeches and swoops
that ole jarf settin down like the sun
his eyes gettin heavy
his life flashin before his eyes
oh, we all expire
but this jarf is layin the problems of the world on his weak back and knees
preparin for that long damn sleep
hopin one day that ole bat will appreciate him
the jarf hears a noise; raises his tired head
scans the skies-- bleary, dark skies
skies that send a normal man home to his loving family
skies that add bleakness to a normal man's heart
yeah, but that jarf peers cheerlessly and bravely into that interminable bleakness
and sees the swoop of the bat, hears its awful screech
it's unflappable hate
the coarse thwipping of leathery wings
that ole jarf hears it all
the maddening of a generation of jarves
the howl of the jarves trapped in their country of sadness and deconstructed dreams
the sighs of the old jarves
lapping at groundwater; malnourished but used to their plight
yet still with that glimmer of hope in their eyes that one day
one day
they would look into that inescapable dark
like their mothers-- slim at sixteen
or their fathers-- sturdy at that same age
did when they were young
and find the bats
and they would sup together at the teat of forsaken's kindness
perchance to dream
perchance to dream

Paul: i accidentally pooped all over the bathtub

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