Goodwill
Garage to garage
I have searched for an item I cannot find
Rare enough that it is lost and remains even now unknown
But it holds a value that you cannot imagine
Though only when I hold it close enough the hear the ocean
It is a purple plastic triangle searching for a home amongst pegs of other shapes
A final piece in a child’s puzzle
It’s comprehension beyond their understanding
Offering fascination only by brilliant plumage and coloration
It is deeply covered in dust
This second layer of life
It lies beneath the plastic skin of protective wrap
A treasure in the bargain bin
Up and down asphalt streets that blister black and writhe with waves of heat
Beyond the spin of tire spokes and casserole
Beneath the wafting spell of burning leaves
Footprints mashed in 2.25 inch grass grown of Chinese silk and dyed the perfect truest truest green
Behind polyester pines with perfected manicures and zoo attraction shapes
Past everything you see every time you pass there is a line of sewage connecting my house to yours
With plaster perfect walls and weather guarded siding there is no room for a hole to hide in
The home is this house and it never feels the same
Desperation with no valid outlet for frustration of the nameless kind
Each house holds a universe of its own and a sucking black hole were love should go
Science can only push or pull but love like this will always blow
A twisted nylon whipping in the wind to rend you from your potato cellar
You dream of waking up in Technicolor
But June will never come
Maps on the web lead only to spiders and four-leaf clover roads can never be escaped
We never wear our second skin
We fold it and suck the air to store it and shove into corners of our crawlspace attics
Curtains are closed tight against the sun and driveways are empty of children staring at the stars
Dreams are made to fit the world when they should be made to shape it
To change it
To grow something we have never seen
A crossbreed of grand ideas and innovation
Sewer grates used as gates to keep the refuse out
Everyone has someone who will never be let in
Hollow hollow in our milky ways
Swollen swirls of stolen souls spinning into space
Sheltered from the weather our madness grows like mold
Our sadness breeds in droves
Oranges that were never orange become staples when a box tells us so
Water isn’t good enough without a taste to spread across the tongue
Miles can’t go by fast enough though distance has become a figment of the mind
The spirit of a human has disappeared and replaced with the soles of battered weary feet
The soul of mankind has gone to a greener place where green isn’t made by paint
The human in a human’s gone and we don’t know when he left
Digest your own tale
Suckle on the rattle of the rattlesnake and keep an eye out for the fangs
She wouldn’t bite you if she could for the foul taste of skin
But death by poison will seem appealing if you have opened your eyes to the danger
Centrifuge to find the key
Gnaw on marrow bones
Supplements are all we need
To stomach the real thing might kill you
Pull me deep in to the sun where warmth cannot fail to reach
Bury to my neck in sand and curl beneath the waves
With blistered peeling skin I have no need to crawl
But my words fail to convey the price of this amazing deal
Skin is burnt in a temple to other gods
Minds are left in cars with all the windows up
And Purpose will not return my call
I have searched for an item I cannot find
Rare enough that it is lost and remains even now unknown
But it holds a value that you cannot imagine
Though only when I hold it close enough the hear the ocean
It is a purple plastic triangle searching for a home amongst pegs of other shapes
A final piece in a child’s puzzle
It’s comprehension beyond their understanding
Offering fascination only by brilliant plumage and coloration
It is deeply covered in dust
This second layer of life
It lies beneath the plastic skin of protective wrap
A treasure in the bargain bin
Up and down asphalt streets that blister black and writhe with waves of heat
Beyond the spin of tire spokes and casserole
Beneath the wafting spell of burning leaves
Footprints mashed in 2.25 inch grass grown of Chinese silk and dyed the perfect truest truest green
Behind polyester pines with perfected manicures and zoo attraction shapes
Past everything you see every time you pass there is a line of sewage connecting my house to yours
With plaster perfect walls and weather guarded siding there is no room for a hole to hide in
The home is this house and it never feels the same
Desperation with no valid outlet for frustration of the nameless kind
Each house holds a universe of its own and a sucking black hole were love should go
Science can only push or pull but love like this will always blow
A twisted nylon whipping in the wind to rend you from your potato cellar
You dream of waking up in Technicolor
But June will never come
Maps on the web lead only to spiders and four-leaf clover roads can never be escaped
We never wear our second skin
We fold it and suck the air to store it and shove into corners of our crawlspace attics
Curtains are closed tight against the sun and driveways are empty of children staring at the stars
Dreams are made to fit the world when they should be made to shape it
To change it
To grow something we have never seen
A crossbreed of grand ideas and innovation
Sewer grates used as gates to keep the refuse out
Everyone has someone who will never be let in
Hollow hollow in our milky ways
Swollen swirls of stolen souls spinning into space
Sheltered from the weather our madness grows like mold
Our sadness breeds in droves
Oranges that were never orange become staples when a box tells us so
Water isn’t good enough without a taste to spread across the tongue
Miles can’t go by fast enough though distance has become a figment of the mind
The spirit of a human has disappeared and replaced with the soles of battered weary feet
The soul of mankind has gone to a greener place where green isn’t made by paint
The human in a human’s gone and we don’t know when he left
Digest your own tale
Suckle on the rattle of the rattlesnake and keep an eye out for the fangs
She wouldn’t bite you if she could for the foul taste of skin
But death by poison will seem appealing if you have opened your eyes to the danger
Centrifuge to find the key
Gnaw on marrow bones
Supplements are all we need
To stomach the real thing might kill you
Pull me deep in to the sun where warmth cannot fail to reach
Bury to my neck in sand and curl beneath the waves
With blistered peeling skin I have no need to crawl
But my words fail to convey the price of this amazing deal
Skin is burnt in a temple to other gods
Minds are left in cars with all the windows up
And Purpose will not return my call
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