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I wonder what language you were speaking. Was it pure psycho-babble? Were the words pure? Were you reciting the words to a song? Were you singing? Could I see your beauty? Were you even cognitive, were you thinking underneath the muttering, heavy clamor of words that jail-broke from your mouth and streamed into existence, flooding the men and woman carrying bags and carts under the artificial lights and long lines Did you think that vomit-mumble-speaking all over a single Korean mother and her young child was imposing or threatening in anyway? If you’d have taken a step closer to her I would have had to step in, but she quietly left her place and dragged her shy looking boy with her as he stared at the ground- and we did our best to turn you into a ghost, clattering pipes in the empty walls- I wonder how many rugs you’ve been swept under. How many times people have tried and failed to plug up the holes in your leaky brain. How many times you’ve tried help yourself. How many times someone has failed you- how many times you’ve failed someone else. How many occasions exactly like this people ignored you as you rambled on about nothing in a Superstore like a broken record skipping unpredictable sick scratched torn
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Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
the superstore line
I wonder what language you were speaking. Was it pure psycho-babble? Were the words pure? Were you reciting the words to a song? Were you singing? Could I see your beauty? Were you even cognitive, were you thinking underneath the muttering, heavy clamor of words that jail-broke from your mouth and streamed into existence, flooding the men and woman carrying bags and carts under the artificial lights and long lines Did you think that vomit-mumble-speaking all over a single Korean mother and her young child was imposing or threatening in anyway? If you’d have taken a step closer to her I would have had to step in, but she quietly left her place and dragged her shy looking boy with her as he stared at the ground- and we did our best to turn you into a ghost, clattering pipes in the empty walls- I wonder how many rugs you’ve been swept under. How many times people have tried and failed to plug up the holes in your leaky brain. How many times you’ve tried help yourself. How many times someone has failed you- how many times you’ve failed someone else. How many occasions exactly like this people ignored you as you rambled on about nothing in a Superstore like a broken record skipping unpredictable sick scratched torn
jonny-bolduc
Written by
American
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 6:25 PM UTC
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