From a child's angle
all lessons come from
above; and the lifted
chins with eyes empty
in search of truth-
whence comes that
whirling dervish
of a thing, whence
comes all lessons
in love

Perhaps this is seed
and the source,
to believe love is
something to look
up at, while those
trusting eyes that
encourage lies
only reinforce
the curse

And then next there
was Santa Claus, who
expressed his love in
in more solid gifts
and another lesson
yet to learn- if you
hate what Santa
brought your ***
shut the **** up
and move on

Razors pain you;
Rivers are danp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

By the time you swear you're his,
    Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
    Infinite, undying-
Lady, make a note of this:
    One of you is lying.

For those who say
the way to perfect love
is to trust and let go
of everything
and you can't love
fully unless you
put your whole heart
into it
that love is a risk
in each case and
nothing ventured
is nothing gained?
The aftermath is
anything but romantic
dontcha think?

Do you remember when we climbed the garden wall?
You slide down and cut your arm
I was mad because we couldn't beat the boys
You were mad because we tried
But I never told you
there was another path inside
He knew too, he caught me once
Sneaking past his window
With his knife to my throat, he proclaimed it his
But it was already my garden
Wild and overgrown

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you
There are other ways to beat the boys

There are many things
well worth doing and  
even some that might
preserve my soul-
the hot pursuit of
the good and eternal
seems a reasonable
goal
But the moment I ought
or should or must do this
or that or some other
virtuous thing
all of my best intentions
simply leave me bitter cold
and send me headlong
into flames eternal

Okay, I brace myself, "okay" being a sort of mantra either spoken alone or placed at the end of every sentence with the lift of a question mark. I do try and keep this okay thing to myself, packed in my head along with other stuff, okay?
And so I stumble, verbally if not silently, okay okay (okay?) as I count down the minutes (25) when I absolutely MUST leave the house even if this time it is By Choice, For Pleasure, whatever that is. I'll call it Not Torture.
I haven't practiced removing the grimace for such a long time I fear it's stuck there.
I scared a Boy Scout earlier in the day and I swear I did nothing at all scary. I bet there will be Boy Scouts out there. Maybe not at the bar but at the Target. I've never seen a Boy Scout at the Target but one time my friend saw a Mormon in the parking lot. He was racing headlong toward him and he panicked, my friend, so  he blurted out "You are the devil." The Mormon was pretty upset.
By now I have to assume there are Boy Scouts everywhere and naturally I am scared to death. I assure you I can develop a full blown phobia over a matter of hours and that's when I try not to think about it. Well, you try not thinking about Boy Scouts! Especially after you've resolved to NOT THINK ABOUT BOY SCOUTS. Aversion therapy doesn't work in case you were gonna suggest that.
Can I sue the Boy Scouts?
How many minutes do I still have left?
Is it still legal in West Virginia to walk behind someone saying over and over again in either of their ears YOUR GONNA DIE YOU'RE GONNA DIE? I'm pretty sure they legalized it within the borders of NYC (even Staten Island, which surprises me). This was due to a statute made during the whole explosion of Performance Art.
How many minutes do I have left?
Why don't I get a prize, twenty bucks or something, for fooling everyone and convincing them I'm okay?