For Dad 4 comments

Posted by grampa in family,the real shit (Friday February 1, 2008 at 10:44 am)

The Muse Never Dies

I keep meeting this girl
this broken girl
beautiful, but like a broken toy
or Humpty Dumpty after all efforts
of the King’s horses and men
and I can never fix her
so I no longer even try.

I fuck her silly
for as long as she’ll let me
then, as we circle
ever and ever closer
to the edge of emotion, she,
like a deer in the headlights,
stops — cold,
catches herself,
and bolts.

Me, like a dumbass
I usually fall (or do I leap?)
off the edge.
But what can I say?
Misery was my only companion
for many a year and
I love both the love,
as well as the loss.

Perhaps I’m too nice,
perhaps they’re too broken,
but I’ve been broken before.
And I’ll be damned if I fear
flying too close to the sun.
So, as soon as the bleeding stops
as soon as my wings flex again,
I fly.

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4 comments for For Dad »

Fixed? (a haiku)

They: bent and broken.
You: worn, silvery duct-tape.
will it last? who knows?

Comment by Yow, I am. bard — Saturday.February.2.2008 @ 7:38 am

I liked this even tho’ it hurts and made me cry a little bit. So personal but not.

Comment by One Wink — Sunday.February.3.2008 @ 4:16 am

well, that nips it in the bud. very well done grampa.

Comment by piglet — Tuesday.February.5.2008 @ 8:17 pm

Very nicely put, my man. Hopefully, as your recovery continues, you will find someone who is not too broken and is willing to do the work to fix herself. With you as an example, it just might work, eh?

Good luck. I enjoy reading you stuff. Keep up the struggle, in the end, methinks it is all worth the effort.


Comment by t. primo — Wednesday.February.6.2008 @ 8:00 am

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