Tuesday, February 07, 2017

Sixteenth Poem (Long Live Compassion)


Drink the water down like poison and never forget you’ve had this coming since before the beginning of time.
Always been either 5’2” or 5’3” that’s just the way it is and I find comfort in that like I once believed I’d find comfort in your unloving, untrustworthy arms.
Something tells me we’ve been doing this dance long before Adam and Eve went to prom and later fucked in a Chevrolet out on the outskirts of town.

We break even or we piss blood either way we’re going to turn into dust before the sands of the hourglass whisper our unpronounceable names and the Devil turns tail and runs.
I’ve been meditating on this word compassion since before I heard my friend Chris Campanile sing “Atmosphere.”
His voice greeted me like the most soulful communion I’ve ever taken part in. We were in Austin the first time and it kept me whole and it kept me grief stricken.

This poetry comes up just like it goes down translucent and full of pulp and watermelon seeds.
Brautigan knew what he was getting when he held that pistol to his head and thought about those delicious hamburgers.
Sometimes I wonder why Jim chose a noose instead of a gun, but then I figure buying rope just made more sense to him and who wants to keep track of a bunch of bullets.

Learn to forgive and forget because denial will always be your best friend.
We were close like two compassionless ghosts until she expected me to get a job. That’s when I knew the magic had died and our relationship was just another losing statistic.
Something tells me we’ve been here before you the classless empresario, me just another ignorant rube who was always willing to shoot the piano player just as long as my luck held out.

Charles Cicirella

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