Don’t wanna talk to nobody-
Just wanna write somebody-
All thumbs these days when it comes to love.
What is this 21st century affair we’re having?
So in love with ourselves,
wanted to tell you- liked your photo
-didn’t- just liked it.
Wanted say how the light caught your hair, as it shimmered, glistened in the glossy glare-
You were looking good then, in the bathroom mirror at your mom’s place.
This selfy nature has us on our knees before your lighted window,
crying at all the old stories of puppies sliding, kitten’s found the red dot between our eyebrows, the man’s tale of walking without legs, that sister’s toast just been born again, dipped au jus style in the blood of the boomers’ broken lambskin- it was an accident! But we’ll love you anyway- when our father’s gone- artful only in heaven (or tube-tube), the earth mom gave us gone grave. Oh save us! Cuz all the bees died away.
Buzzing on into lonely night, we flickr dreams off, hand some to the altar bright. I pray to a new god that looks rather like me, similarly looking, I’d say, rather more what a god aught, Stuck in self-ish kinda image post-it noted in your head, ’bout what -in fact- you could be instead.
Aww, yiss, there I am.
Head turned e’er t’ward the light.