cobalt

NEW POEM TODAY!

BOX OR SOFT?

Youve picked a soft way to fade,
my once fiendish cookie puck,
perhaps developed and simultaneously
engorged in isolation, in erotic reverie,
pasted on pillows and resigned to
soft. Perhaps in shades of domesticity,
you will find your way to a effortless
and wantless picnic stop.

But I doubt it.

I hope that music still
strains through you, that your hands
have not yet atrophied, that your
core still has the hard flash of youth. THESE
WORDS ARE MEANT FOR YOU, because
soft is a weak way to lick your way
into understatic paralysis. Fine eating,
fine weather and the tally turn of birds are
not the full stuff of adulthood.

Is your anger complete? Are towers of bills your
ticket into comfort? Is the roof above your
head nothing but a tunnel, a voluntary hole
from meteors and sky? A lunchbox of
temporary tenderness before your hair falls out?
Have you, too been replaced with a
handful of your own flesh?

I THINK NOT, YOU POWERLESS GLASS!

GRAB YR FKING BALLS AND LIGHT, YOU
FREAK!!! ACTIVATE SHINE AND HIT THAT
BOARD! BREAK IT YOU FKER, MAKE A SOUND!!

Turn tenderness to fury, paralysis to heat.
Youve still got the burn, so get cracking,
FUCKO, brat that brain, smote that ash
before you baste, my friend, before you
evaporate entirely, effortless into soft.