Young Liars (not featuring TV on the Radio)

 

If silence were golden

You’d be chipping your tooth on fool’s gold

then spitting your fillings into the collection plate again.

Caught doing it for the fourth time

this fiscal quarter.

A real blunder, this one.

The improprieties pile up on one another-leaning precarious, struggling to see over the edge, locked in a mothball-ridden closet.

Molding with the passage of time-

Still vintage.

If vintage were the wheels, catching fire from heated, seized calipers, the entire contraption falling off and rolling into the glamorous lake, the pride of our little slice of heaven.

And I’ll sit by and let the torn rubber and the chemical smell of spurned brakes choke out the fish in the water, seep into the drinking supply.

revenge-a measure of it-

Finally.

Gravity Rides Everything (not featuring Modest Mouse)

 

From a distant star

The flashbulb burning itself 

into the collective’s

knowing oblivion.

A blip and blop and click and sputter.

Morse in uneven distribution

of light’s focus.

Slipping into an inkwell.

Returning unblemished

Dipping again

Into an unknown.

Slept well

and

Shaken awake

At the whims of

Some unseen

dark-hearted puppeteer.