Midnight dream
inconceivable desires.
The denizens of a simple town
In a world of complication.
I want, I need to find
a primitive land far beyond.
Far-fetched, chimerical.
My decree, to search
high and low,side to side.
For a place where I can be free.
From stipulation that seems to be
A birthright, a curse made out to seem like
a gift, as though we asked for this?
oh Mortification, all I ask is to be
unlatched from this leash
the world so generously strapped
around my neck. That is my
Magnificent Obsession**.

She watched the apples from her window,
The way they clung to the branches grimly
When the wind blew, making them shiver.
Yet retaining their blush, as if to say
Look at me, and my innocence

She waited for the autumn eagerly,
They swelled importantly, but she knew
That the end was creeping closer,
A gentle touch could make them fly
And land with an honest thud and cracked skin.

Once she put her hand to impassive glass,
As if she wanted to save them.
For all their simpering arrogance,
She didn't like to see them in pain.
Weeping as time coated them in mould.

She bore witness to their disorderly end,
Spilled beneath the tree that birthed them
Like discarded marbles. She would've saved them,
But thought there was little point.
They always grew again, every year.

There's no reasonable explanation
To how this all went down
When the world woke up one morning
All made up as clowns

Not a single person in the world
Did this phenomenon not claim
With big red buttons on their chests
Spelling out new funny names

There was Patches and Petunia
Floppy and Cupcake
Winky and Bumper the Clown
Were just a few that they displayed

Everyone went about their business
Only now they all carpooled
You could see clowns piling out of cars everywhere
From businesses to stores to schools

Crime it did die down
Because all the guns that people have
Instead of shooting bullets
Shoot out brightly colored Big Bang Flags

Of course the circus lost its glamour
With an audience made up of clowns
It's hard to tell who's there enjoying
And who's entertaining all the crowds

People stopped taking each other seriously
Over anything they had to say
Pointing at each other and laughing
As they go about their day

Who knew a thing like this would happen
When the world went to bed last night
That the very next morning
They'd wake up clowns for life

Oh, I almost forgot the Politicians
Were the only ones to stay the same
It's already a simple known fact
*When your a clown you don't need to change

I still have
the note you wrote,
kissed with your raspberry lipstick,
licked with your bedtime ink.

For years, left to dry
in a drawer, inhaling the dark,
I found it, like a stale apple,
blushing yellow.

I understand the words now,
the loops, the curves, a fairground ride,
that's what we were
before the carpet scorched our knees.

Did you keep the one
that I wrote you?
No, maybe, torn at the top
and stuffed somewhere.

I let your message breathe again,
swallow the days,
this red stain rages upon my eyes,
a note with no writer, how it all fades.

I spread gravel once
flat across a lawn...
wishing it was me.

I made a trash bag-wreath once
white-pure strips of plastic...
wishing it was me.

I looked up at the delicate sky
held in place forever
crying to be fleeting
trapped in existence: eternity.

I heard family ghost stories once
stained branches on family tree...
wishing it was me.