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Sean Pugerude Mar 2011
We consider impossible possibilities
and read from a dictionary of abstract words
and try to grasp intangible ideas.
its a perplexing and troublesome thing

Altruism, Absurdism, Animism
A constant clamor of chaos
Word words words
Only in context can you understand

But how could I ever be sure?
You hear it, but could you ever know?
Does Idividualism, instrumentalism, Intellectualism
Mean anything to you?

Even if it does
there’s a gap in perceptions
the space between your eyes and mine
is a world apart, never to meet

Expression is futile
we can never make any connections
You reverberate in my ear
and echo out of me
I reverberate in your ear
and echo out of you
Pushing and pulling like the tide
constantly eroding the meaning

But once in a while
when I look at you
and say “I love you.”
You say “I love you too.”

By the twist of your mouth
and the gleam in your eye
I know our definitions
are one, and the same

Though our emotions are lost in translation
and its challenging to put it into words
Your reply causes such sensations
I have no doubt.  You meant it.
Sean Pugerude Mar 2011
What is time?
An hour, minute, moment?
A friend or an enemy?
Always constant, reliable
inevitable, unstoppable
intangible, yet manageable
Ages us
Changes us
and heals
yet it's true essence
it never reveals
Sean Pugerude Mar 2011
Always the critic
freeing to be above it
and deny goodness
Sean Pugerude Mar 2011
Perfect squares of light
I found you on the carpet
originating from dusty windows

This is the landscape of my brief
child-life as a kitten
A cat nap in the sun
                 Accompanied by:
Surreal consciousness
incomparable serenity
and a gross, halcyon laziness

I've yet to bear the weight of gender
or "finding yourself"
A feeling akin to jumping off a  swing
or one to many stairs


And I feel
As though
I can live this moment

But naturally,
the sun must pass (I land)
and the child is left in darkness
Sean Pugerude Mar 2011
"I guess I'll talk to you later then."

                           I wait.

Until I hear the *click
This is how it always ends.
Why is it
that when you're making plans
I'm glued to the receiver
thoughtful in the static


then guilt stricken and uneasy
I click

You'll never know,
I'll briefly wait in your pocket
Sean Pugerude Mar 2011
The town is too small
the minds are too narrow
Points of view: fixated
on the here and now
but our eyes are set
           On the future

No place to

We'll run, but only into more cul de sacs
prepare coffee
    set the alarm
         for another replay
             of yesterday
                 of today
                     of tomorrow

I'll live on the hope that
there's something greater out there
because I know
There's nothing left in me
Sean Pugerude Mar 2011

Your breath broken
What else could I do
This barrier came from no where
and with gentle trembling hands
I pounded at it
Fully aware and totally uncertain

My hand on your knee
It felt nice
the first touch


A secret
More like an idea
not even a possibility
personal, never hinted at
you were never supposed to know
but we always knew
and wanted to let it out
festering inside me
though I hushed it
I wanted to know your secrets
and the grown-up drinks drew the courage out of me
light poured onto everything
I could hear you smile
I froze
"When we talk on the phone sometimes I--"

"People who have people
are the worst kinds of people"
I said it, and I meant it and you hated it
I just didn't understand.
I hope you can forgive me.
I had never known that love
until you sought another
How fickle I am

Oh but the terrible sweetness
of your fingertips on my waist
to move me out of the way
to see her

Entangled in your wild youth
spiraling downward
I watched you slip
and wepted for you, my friend.
enveloped in fear

You left

I waited

and you won

an embrace
a kiss
Your fingers tracing shapes on my thighs
until you touch me.

We're the worst kind of people.

— The End —