12.4.08

tomcruise.10

I’m not letting this bullshit™ keep me from sleeping at night anymore
there is a shovel sticking out of the ground
I am looking in your eyes on purpose and I refuse to look away
there is a person walking out into the ocean near the city
Tom Cruise holds someone over the edge of the porch upside down
it is the chains on our limbs pulling us to pieces in this civilized world
heat rises from the motor of the car idling in the soil
a person struggles out of the wreckage torn metal cuts through the skin
I touch your hair and look into your eyes everything is going to be okay™
there is pain™ here there is sadness™ and a hand held out for you
fireworks go off over the water the town gathers and looks at the sky
there is compassion™ in the consumer handling the clerk the bills
the toilet overflows I relate to it and sit and sigh before going on
it is an invisible commitment to continue
no matter no matter
there is surprisingly™ more
I am getting used to it to living with broken things
and patiently™ mistaking my way to making them work™
Tom Cruise clips a microphone onto his lapel
the motor ignites and spreads with the explosion
it flies through the air over the building
and lands on the ground at your feet on the road
it is the erupting volcano surrounded by tornados in the middle of a hurricane
take a breath it will be over soon enough and back into the nothing™
we are helpless™ while a chair moves toward us
a yellow convertible driving down the road in the fall on
the tv in the conference room of the party at the hotel
Tom Cruise hops on one foot he kneels and touches his fist to the ground
a body smashes through the dock into the water
it is an organism only microscopes can see
I listen to you and bring the glass to my lips
we must go through this and I know that it hurts™
and I am sorry™
but this is it
a bit of a disappointment™
but it’s not so bad™
and it is soo bad™
don’t be afraid™
I will cry in the sadness™ of us but there is no need to struggle
your halo is a hollow spider web suspending a fly above the gas pump
you’re your headlights let you see three-hundred fifty feet ahead of you
the fog sinks to the ground and holds us invisibly
once I could smell you
the nebula slowly floats off
it is a crown on a pillow being carried over to you
a crowd by the side of the river
there is nothing™ without you but it hurts™ too and that is meaningful
Tom Cruise touches the microwave that heats his popcorn
we have been waiting as long as we have been here
you can save™ yourself
toucans in the jungle eat bugs from the bark
while Tom Cruise puts his finger in his mouth
escape into the world with me
fiery cars on the side of the road
a bomb that almost killed every one of us
and this is about as holy a place as we are gonna find
we cling to civilization and repel each other
I sit alone and speak and worry™
for right now
on the screen young Tom Cruise slides into the frame and pretends to sing
I jumped up and gave a moth a high five
and it died on impact and spiraled down to the concrete
I am the hidden power™ of the suburbs
Tom Cruise sings karaoke looking around
all of this is hostile™ territory
where you can buy things and set them down
and turn on the TV and the remote still gives something gracious™
I accumulate habits and panic™ between habits
it is one thing at a time for now and carry on
Tom Cruise walks down the street with plastic wrap covering his eyes
it is lurching forward and rotating in the metal box
lean lean and regret™
that is what the bench gets
paint paint and power washings
that is what the wall gets
someone stands on a porch in America wearing
sunglasses some ice rattles in a cup in their hand
a little softer a little slower here
is a small bliss™ that passes
a virtual reality in a reality
it is a conveyer that moves pieces into holes