August 18, 2011

Still Drafting

well the sky was a dark navy
as in, darker than my grandfather's navy blue suit
the one he wore while he saw people die?
the stars in the sky were absent,
so the formality of the buttoned-up buttons
of his navy blue suit
was nothing like the casual heavens above me
the world was inappropriately silent, save for my thoughts
anyways, a deer was hit, right in front of me while driving.
all i saw though, was the result:
a beast, larger than you and me,
rolling and kicking as though it was a beetle
flipped onto its back
by some laughing child.

its eyes were wild and unnatural
caught in limbo, the deer used its spine to shuffle off to the side of the road
and i drove away.

that's what i had wanted to do
at that one funeral?
it's hard to think about how i didn't recognize that he's gone.
did he recognize that those people around him were going, too?
did he know?
or maybe it only just hit him,
years after the guilt had stopped fluctuating,
that he was dying, too,
and maybe joining all those people who saw him see them in his navy blue suit.

questioning methods of psychology

there's a world
that i visit every so often
you wouldn't know it
because only i can get there
i'll walk down the main street
and my shadows won't meet at my feet
but i think about what i see
past memories
shaded black
faded grey
they swarm into buildings
until a city looms up and swallows me whole
and i'm in the sewers again
where i see my future in this world
and i have to grab the ladder
and climb back out
an obnoxious process that,
usually, takes no more than four days.
so i'll see you all when i get back