How eloquently put, how many beautiful words you know
Your words make no sense
And the drunk laughed and sung with a loud steady voice
Such is the truth,
one more wrinkle in the drunk’s face,
one more white hair added to many,
a burned eyelash by a cigarette lighter brought too close to the face by the unsteady hand.
And the kids played with hulas all morning, laughing and crying and laughing and crying looped under the watchful mind of their mothers.
Today there is no school,
no mentoring,
no advising,
no homework,
no lunchboxes,
no pencil sharpeners
no smell of coffee on the teacher’s breath. Just endless pairs of motherly eyes and minds watching…
This face is full of
clam cell lines,
beach shore lines,
traces of time shifting through the morning light that doesn’t touch the corner of the bar.
Such is the truth,
such is the logic lost in a sea of dejection,
glassy dreams,
hollow hope,
fake smiles,
nice words,
tidal waves of jokers beating you straight…and the kids played with hulas…
And the drunk made wrinkles and burned eyelashes.
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