Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The cats get the Cradle
the beetles get the bread
and the cherry-cheeked children,
the children
all are dead

The world is growing smaller
the Sun is getting hotter
it is all a fault of ours
a fault of ours so faulty
falling gently, screaming, kicking
to the ground
so we give

The cats the Cradle
the beetles get the Bread
and the cherry-cheeked children,
the children
all are dead

Men are exploding
children are smoking–
smoking needles
eating beetles
black and pink
Beatles
The Beatles all are dead
not the legend, just the passion
so instead we give

The cats the Cradle
and the beetles to the bread
and the cherry-cheeked children
the children
all are dead

because the world
turned upside-down
all together, upside down

sons in shoe-heels
lipstick jungles
deep violet secrets
girls in pants
panting
running from understanding caring
claiming you are open-minded
too open-minded to mind
the option
of a closed mind
so instead,
**** the trees for

the cat’s cradle
feed the beetles to the bread
since all the cherry-cheeked children
and their childhood:
all dead.
a flower
    a flower
       another

a ring
   a brooch
      a dress

none of these proved his love,
only that he could buy the best
Do you remember
that night?
the first time
we made out.

We went looking for stars
and found rain.
As we lay in the grass,
damp
with the impending
downpour,

Your eyes hovered
above mine
as I talked nonsense
somewhat unsure
nervous
but willing

The both of us

Until I lifted my chin to yours,
and the rain began to fall,
Building,
until we were drenched with it

And I trembled
half from the wet
half from the way
Your fingers traced over
My chilled skin

You moved your hand across my bust
between layers of shirt and bra
searching for the boundaries

And, I, with my hand
  guided your hand
   under the wire

Where you grasped,
telling me I was beautiful

You made me feel it

You were the first
I ever let touch me
like that

Because I knew you would
but
what I didn’t know
was how deeply.

— The End —