Monday, February 22, 2016

power.

"here is a misunderstood monkey his name is
karma he's sneakin' around my hood. do you have
a taste for continuity? i sure do.
i like looking at my face in the mirror when
it's chokin' on a wishbone. it's been going on

in a bare world that keeps having more of
itself
to bare each day. my

twenty
poetic
welfare children carry my body away to a glass
casket that's gonna disintegrate. little pieces of carnage

walk up nearby stone steps to feed such sad, thin-voiced
weeping willow trees. bits of carrion
once decent human beings roll away

in their mercurial ravings to the
ivy crawling up little houses for little
people. this is what my emphasis was all worth.

go on and be given to somebody else. one thing
is left. i still love my memory i've left, that

of my watching my choking of myself."

-shel silverstein