Towering Figures
a poem
sometimes I wonder about the regular-ness of life and each age's desire to make heroes and villains of small men Miller mentioned quiet desperation and we build cathedrals to our bodies our vanity our need to be affirmed in a desperate attempt to distract us from the fact that not everyone gets the same is the same at all in the darkness of many cold rooms in institutions from my youth on I thought about all the holidays that I was allowed to miss reintegration of a lost soul is not possible regeneration of a broken boy is not in the cards across the table from me a man is holding pocket kings and I can see right through him I fold my aces anyways self-destruction in a verse immolation in a chorus sung to the high heavens in a vibrato tuned to a high E there was a cave and I saw the shadows on the wall long before I struck them all down long before someone wrote my name in the nominations before the committees and in the backroom dealing there are no stories of a hero to look up to it is not disappointment not for a single second it is, in fact expected results of a boy who dreams in triolets in the mornings I hum sonnets and in the evenings I dance odes I eat elegies in the late nights snacks I just cannot resist I had a teacher once who tried and thought he should show me Milton and there I met a fanciful Lucifer a pretty boy, whose eyes were stars and saw that it is in the hearts of men to be fallen to be broken to be unhealed and of all the times I tasted love it was but a false amber shade of indigestion and physical desire a fluttering of bats in the comic stories billionaires have hearts of gold and boys of all shapes and sizes believe in the leaders we see in the reality we all share however it is that we see it it turns out there is no Batman and he beat up the poor anyway the colorful villains always escape and always kill again and always kill again and always kill again I stood in the pantry with a towel around my neck and I leapt towards you and you let me fall and you let me fall.




"the colorful villains always escape" good ass line right there
So beautifully and cleverly written…heartbreakingly so! 👌💛