Month: September 2015

Daze Watch

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© Sept. 4, 2015. All Rights Reserved.

Part 1:

Defiled by
Wisdom.
Slapped by the
Damsel.
A cult of rules
Sticky as gum.
Lethal plans
For trouble.
Paramedics
In the soul.
The heart’s
In a squared circle,
Pride’s
A sick role.
Chores
For every commercial.

Look at me.
I’m remarkable,
Breaking bones till I’m free.
Living isn’t awful.

Part 2:

He was breastfed
With expired milk.
His fingers
Are softer than cigarettes.
There’s no egomaniacs
Of his ilk,
And they’ll pay
If his dream, he quits.
Supplements
Get him dizzy.
He’s unfit. His mother drugs him
Till he shits.
“That’s a dangerous sport,”
Her mouth’s busy,
Unlike the microphone stranger that submits.

Look at me.
I’m remarkable,
Breaking bones till I’m free.
Living isn’t awful.

Part 3:

The pressure’s on.
He’s on his keister,
Imitating them
In his head.
When he smiles, his mother frowns. He’s a loser,
Pummeled by workouts.
He’s better off dead,
Brainwashed
By the comparison of her.
Tired of T.V., she says,
“Go to bed!”
The wooden, off-white stairs
Are blurrier.
Wrestling’s live,
But for him, no lights shed.

Look at me.
I’m remarkable,
Breaking bones till I’m free.
Living isn’t awful.

Part 4:

Grappling the pillow, he cries,
“Shut up! Wrestling’s fake,”
His mother yells.
“No it’s not,” he yells.
Her caring dies.
She pisses in her blue G-string.
It smells.
Punishment of hearing
Her moans,
In her bed isn’t an act.
Sex fails.
She still reads him bedtime stories
In many tones.
He says,
“Your drama kills my red blood cells.”

Look at me.
I’m remarkable,
Breaking bones till I’m free.
Living isn’t awful.

Part 5:

She says, “I see you living in Japan
In a mansion.”
He says, “I just want to wrestle.
That’s all.”
She says, “You can hurt yourself.
You won’t be champion.
Live your life
Not like Saint Peter. Stand tall.
You make me happy, you get my medallion.”
He says, “I’d rather wrestle and risk my downfall.
I never said the pain
Would be fun.
I’m still learning
How to brawl.”

Look at me.
I’m remarkable,
Breaking bones till I’m free.
Living isn’t awful.

Part 6:

She looks like she left the dog
In the storage,
Crying till it drowns
The lice from her head.
He stabs her maxilla
Like a daily forage.
The tempting taste
Of brick red,
Squirting in his eyes.
He wouldn’t be certain.
He forgot everything
His mother said.
He watches wrestling
Every now and then.
So, it’s the past
When he knows she bled.

Look at me.
I’m remarkable,
Breaking bones till I’m free.
Living isn’t awful.