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we keep them in cages
we want all of our friends to see
so we put them on stages
they should be out there running free

my friend on the table
won't stop scratching at the glass
I've chosen to disable
this animal's natural path
This isn't about domesticated pets. This is the reason I don't go to zoos. It is so sad to see that look in an animals eyes.
 Jan 2016 Anto MacRuairidh
vinny
Make me your object
shape twist mold
so when the monsters come out
you have something to hold
 Oct 2015 Anto MacRuairidh
Emily
something about the rain
the gloom and doom sensation
yet it feels like relief
all your emotions and sorrows
pouring out and coming down
banging ******* the driveway
window cracked open
the repetitive sound in your ear
nothing to do but listen and think
the rain brings long thoughts
frustrating, sad, anxious
but at the same time, freeing
parts of me are washed away
parts i wish that weren't there
a new chapter can begin after the rain
the smell, the feel, the look
out of dark clouds comes light
you take a deep breathe
cleansed
It breaks my heart every time you say
that no one's with you today
because I wanted to stay
but you pushed me away
be ever gentle to thy words
treat them, your tools, well,
cleansing and protecting,
wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin
that they may be well conditioned and
pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous,
reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage,
they are well-intentioned to exist far longer
than your meager temporal life,
upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit

give them all respect, their fair due,
they are treasure immeasurable,
for which you have been granted guardianship,
custody received from others to be gifted onwards,
yours, but for the duration

so oft we trifle words,
expel them from the country of our body,
without passport and earnestness,
as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler,
day tourists, to be treated as leavings,
refuse for daily discardation,
barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance,
but leaving not, a mark of distinction

more truffle than trifle,
find them in the dark forest of your life,
use them sparingly, just for soaring,
take them from the roots of your trees,
shave them with a paring knife,
counts them in bites and measure them in grams,
even in grains,
for words are the seasoning of our lives,
agent provacateurs that can modify the moment,
bringing out to the fore
the flavor of the underlying

speak them slow and distinct,
for they arrive slow to you,
a trickling of refugees for your sheltering,
harbor them as full companions,
protected by natural law,
provision them well,
prepared and ever ready for a quick departure,
moor them at the embarcadero,
for the next restless leg of endlessness,
which they themselves will inform you
will last longer than eternity,
long after there are no humans to speak them
Oct. 6, 2015
4:30am
Manhattan Island
while
he reached up
to
peek over
the
counter
on
his
tippy toes
the
wide-eye
cinnamon toast
freckled face
boy
just wanted
a vanilla
ice cream cone
decorated
with
red green orange blue
candy color sprinkles
I rolled on my back
The room is pitch black
Why can't I sleep?
I know, I really had to ***

I stumbled off the bed
Carrying my heavy head
Dragging my feet
Lazy eyes closed as I ran into a seat

Cold tiles chilling my sole
I couldn't even think clearly
Staying too late was taking its toll
As I reached the toilet missing it barely

A dreary road it was
On my way back to the room
I stubbed my toe but didn't curse
Right before I collided with a broom

Door shut behind me
I go to greet warm sheets
As I melt into the bed beneath
I know I've never felt more sleepy
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