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Ex Nihil
This site contains explicit pictures
of someone you know.

So is this it,
the Magic Theatre
supposedly advertised
for Madmen only?

Explicit indeed,
bad dreams and sensual whispers,
perhaps just a breaking;
a dissolving of one self.

Where you go,
I dare not follow,
for I am not of those people
and moreover
they know it.

Where I go,
you don't want to follow,
for reasons I don't understand
and which you
won't explain.

You want the city,
the newness and the lights,
adventure being a new bar
every night?

I want the forest,
the oldness and the twilight,
adventure being a new song
every night.

Halloween night
this last year;
I saw a relative of yours
run alone down the middle
of your street;
Red Fox in the City.

Smoking on your balcony,
with a bear of a man
we yelled inside that your
family was at hand.

I sat on your couch
and talked with you,
watched you watch others,
and I can't remember
anything you said.

I do remember,
when you took me to your room
in search of cards
because I needed to be
doing something with my hands.

You pulled boxes from
your closet and I met your cat,
(I hoped he liked me; he was pretty cool,
didn't enjoy the noise of a party,
same as me in that regard)
we didn't find cards
but we did find a vase of flowers.

You laughed when I asked
who gave them to you,
as if you buying them for yourself
wasn't something I
should be sad about.

Perhaps that's why
I bought you carnations
when your Grandmother died.

I can't help but feel
that I didn't meet you by accident,
but knowing that we will
never love each other
merely adds to my confusion.

There's a low roar in my ears
as I sit here now,
knowing that I care about you
for purely selfish reasons;
as if by being good to you
I could erase selfishness and
ignorance from my past.

In a final note
of outright anguish,
I wish that I in my childishness,
had the courage to show you
the things I have written
for friend.
Perhaps it’s the chemicals
In the mulch
Or the heat of the sun
Or that it’s Friday
But I want to grip monkey bars,
Just once

Hovering over
freshly baked plastic
and burn my ***
Or scream that I’m it and
slap some chubby bully kid-
run like the cool wind
Thank gosh I am quick.
Impress Kylie with my
Kickball Kick
Or cry on the swings-
the playground’s gallows,
When I learn she is moving

come the fall.

Leaves roll in,
dragged in waves across pavement
Queens of the universe
speed by
late for classes in some far off world where there is no recess

But my time
is kept
by bright bells
The clanging of metal,
distant shrieks,
Tall red beams and
lines of dumb ducklings.
It begins with a voice
And ends with a sliding slam of
a Silver Chrysler door
It is sustained by light thunder
Of feet pounding woodchips
Leaving dust in the seams of jeans
My mother bought me at Kohl’s last week.

— The End —