(maybe) back to life

desk

if you sit at the desk long enough

I don't know what you will find

maybe the world of darkness and light, that the poets speak of

or maybe just a desk full of empty space

 

if you go out into the world long enough

I don't know what you will find

maybe heartache rage and hopeful faces

or maybe just people treading stars and stripes

 

if you go into yourself long enough

I don't know what you will find

maybe a misshapen story and ugly hands on your neck

or maybe it will be a golden and bitter ladder

leading from your bladder to your throat

maybe all the words that you have spent years swallowing

and drowning in will climb into your hair and nose

 

maybe you will bear down on the years of faces in sheets and

crippling doubt and white rage and become very afraid

or maybe you will cry with your whole heart full of tears and pain

at the news

feel like you need to take all your salt and vines

and make a bridge in yourself

 

maybe you will build a bridge in your life

maybe you will build a fort in your marrow

or

maybe you will die at the arrows of hate and indifference

maybe lying in street with the American Judas, starts to sound, okay

until he/she/they kisses/kiss your face and turns you in to be shredded by laser and lies

 

maybe you will lie awake for a 100 years full of storms and silent fury

until the daylight sears you wide open with jagged balloons of your past selves

and  eventually you peep your

head from the middle of your stomach

long enough to take your own hand

and pull yourself

back to life