Tempured Closures

Apathy and irony swirl as a cocktail of dismal dyers simmer against a painted skyline on this hollow eve. The summer sizzle of carved out expectations drift in vapor trails like mystic transmissions speaking in a twin language that has not been dreamt, has disconnected their service, and moved out of town.

The drink swirls it's skirt like the greatest dancers of an aborted generation that has never seen the light of day. Hung up on a mantle the proudest child parents that anyone can ask for as fathers turn to mothers we simmer together your neighbor what a guy! Hope filled daydreams breathe against a dependable frame those whom have shoulder fit for suburban ulterior motives to rest on. House fires rip through bomb scares and shooting sprees. The pen, and the word that comes from hearts unknown speak out to set bones long enough to remain on shoulders that are post decay, and dying now monumented a symbol of martyrdom. Benched are the affluent, and erected are wolves protected by wealth, plastic, and social Kool-Aid that sticks to the roof of mouths in praise. Tears fly then transmit in waves of inviting symphonies unheard, undreamt, and unwanted mystic transmissions that communicate in short waves, and are like ham as pigs fly homeward bound.

Among the drink we prop up the feet while broken bones roll over and heal in the summer sweat and the painted heat. Our shelves full of championships we never participated in but watched from the microfiber couches in our hearts. This hollow eve setting into the sheets of our open graves where we bury our innocence, bitterness and rage with the letters from loved ones that would rather see us passed away before they even knew us. And still knowing us wish that we would dearly depart them into mass graves while they mourn us for a lifetime in their suburban woken wake as they anticipate a wave that will never crest crashing against the best wishes, and scenarios where we are still raped by their in affections, and their chalice of rage.

Nights like these we sweat together as we pull the covers up and fade.