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Everything is Too Much

Neil Left

Beaten blue feet hit breaking black earth 

Everything in the heart land’s arrhythmic 

Tears stream down frozen facial pangs sting 

Everything is starting to hurt 

I don’t know why I get sweats at night 

Why the silence in my ear starts to ring 

But frantic colors paint my heel turn 

I don’t want to be happily violent 

I only want to be asleep 

Self centeredness is the only sin 

I am subsumed within myself 

Turn on the songs of George McCrae 

Take Delta eight and float away 

This ritual, ceremony, spiritual, centered 

Centered around … self I suppose 

Three breaths in I lose my clothes 

Still I float, on the subtle greens of air 

My tongue tastes like ash, smoke fills my hair 

Dead combines loom outside 

Like giants who were never even alive 

Lived for hundreds of years then died 

In my back yard, on grandads farm 

Red dripped from his attic 

I hope I don’t float up there 

Mute toned bodies dance in my mind 

They’re my company, the folks aren’t home 

Mom works tonight dad is long gone 

My kingdom is all in front of my naked form 

I own it in principal, no one else is here to claim 

By virtue of governmental trade 

Beads for land or a squatters waste 

I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive but even if I die today 

I’ll never know how anyways 

I’m a slow finger moving to point 

From my hip towards my love 

Is it sad; they’ll never know 

I must be thankful for the screens I got 

Technicolor toned bodies in my innocent eyes 

There’s never anything to do outside 

The nearest drive thru is 40 minutes via bike 

And naked on linoleum here I lie 

The old McMansion is made of cardboard and paste 

Lottery birth based on shrewd investments and life insurance claims 

By virtue of there is nobody else here that could take 

By virtue of lives really aren’t that difficult to replace  

When you live on the hill in the city made of gold 

Fall 2022

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