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come what mae

Impatient with service
Hankering to be perfected 
Particles of her
Fall to the 
Particular 
Here & now 
Deaf to the tone 
A text message inflected 
Articulations worthless
Artifacts
Ask why
This bottle 
That boy
That last 
Drink 
of both
That remind you 
Of running out
Freckled & un-objected

Come what mae
A Her tomorrow
A Her today
A herd of hers
This blonde
A hair too late
A heart on holiday
Unhearing tomorrow
Hurt of the hate
Hungering to be touched 
What would you have me do
What do you want me to say

A sucker for 
The leathery display
Torn jeans
Wounds 
That have given up trying to heal
The white water fray

A junkyard needle 
Sewing the black tar
Painting the village red
Euphorically ingrained
Exploding to 
Explore
The swarthy sun that your legs display 
Giving up prepared coincidence 
Unsure of tomorrow
Shaved today

Come what mae
A Her tomorrow
A Her today
A herd of hers
This brunette 
A hair too late
A heart on holiday
Unhearing tomorrow
Hurt of the hate
Hungering to be touched 
What would you have me do
What do you want me to say

A mention of an ex 
Circumstantial evidence of why 
Some things 
Do not last
She says 
We all have haunted pasts

Do not believe in ghosts
But I do believe in clowns 
& the prayers of those
Having
The first drink
are the last to laugh

Speckled amongst this conversation
Is a white sand 
To grind along
A weary song
A strained straw
Hanging on a face
A colonial jaw
Conquering
Are the lips 
Proffering proof
To an atheist's awe
Gods exist
Smart enough to know
Beauty fades
But dumb enough 
to sit there
& believe in what he will never say he saw

Come what mae
When fortune calls
Answer
Pretend it's your phone
Pretend you're god
Deny your existence 
Decry you're alone
She will stay 
In that throne 
As she bemoans 
The rosé
Never the boy
She barely knows
Happiest 
In the hours
When the lies 
Become the truth
As the gallery is opened
& only the pictures of me
In her mind
Can be shown
Do you really want me to say something 

Have barely known 

Max Barsness1 Comment