There's something so sick about
        this emotional capacity

Before breakfast we plant atomic bombs in our neighbors yard
                                                            ­   like bulbs of (glad)iolus
Haven't you noticed how much gardens look like graveyards

My cereal, ceiling, bathroom, and skin
        All say Made in China
This homeland is looking more like that land
Ughhh and you can see the blood in my pink nail polish from that sweat shop girl
It's not supposed to be RED!

ooOooopps did we just learn how to commercialize genocide
I'm wondering when I'll wake up with a barcode
Will it be on my eyelids
             my arms                                           my soul

Maybe God was in the bees
And now
Now there's no more honey, flowers, or trees
  
                       Just time.

My brothers both went to war
It's not Wal-Mart
But it's open 24/7, checkout through Heaven
And I don't think they're coming home

Not without bones implanted in their brains
sharp, jagged, broken ones
That kind that make you uncomfortable with your memories
The one's that make it hard to sleep

Last week I found a dead cat
  A dead bird in the snow
When I turned around the corner, I saw myself

I was lying in the street
          Dead, dead
And I felt nothing

As you gracefully continue your life,
I'll be waiting.
Hoping.
Deteriorating.
We didn't share much, but it was real,
Was it?
Or was it all a game? A lie?
Maybe I'll taste love too soon
Too much...
I get drunk on that thought, I crave that feeling.
To live.
To breathe.
To be something.
Anything!
But as I stare into your meaningless, distant eyes, a void fills me up.
It crawls to my heart, to my soul.
And it whispers untill I cannot stand it anymore.
The thought of not being with you...

I wish I could decipher you
insufficient explanation construed
words may fail and logic falter,
the account I'd never alter

a beautiful culmination
purposed, intricate summation
as poetic as a psalter,
the account I'd never alter

transcendent, pleasant mystery
exquisite, written history
content, soaring past the vaulter
the account I'd never alter

I wish I could decipher you
the account I'd never alter

Some day, when trees have shed their leaves
And against the morning's white
The shivering birds beneath the eaves
Have sheltered for the night,
We'll turn our faces southward, love,
Toward the summer isle
Where bamboos spire to shafted grove
And wide-mouthed orchids smile.

And we will seek the quiet hill
Where towers the cotton tree,
And leaps the laughing crystal rill,
And works the droning bee.
And we will build a cottage there
Beside an open glade,
With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,
And ferns that never fade.