Tuesday, April 12, 2011

A Sonnet for your Troubles.

We came out laughing, some more than others.
I dreamed of nothing like she said I would.
My throat burns like fire, so does my brother’s.
Water, my dearest friend, is a falsehood.
Part of me is in the trash, or a jar.
They’re distracting me with some dumb cartoon.
Hysteria enough for my memoir
Drenches these white, white floors this afternoon.
They’re wheeling us out now, there’s time to keep.
Helpful, falsetto voices hurt my ears.
His stony silence says it wasn’t cheap.
Out in the sun, we’re ragged pioneers.
Back in these covers, no one will intrude.
God, the only thing I miss is the food.

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