Abundance of Things
They’re signing off the last line of the will
as I ruminate over which creamsicle peach dye
to soak my hair when I get bored; a meditation
about my body’s resentment for living.
I’m learning to drive and calling out how many kids
I could hit and run. Instead I kill my African violets
with abundant love. Kill time annoying the suburbs
singing teenage rants of this summer’s lazy misery.
I grew up without consciousness, I came into
myself, now I am nothing more than vaporous sunset
dissolving into a trick of the light, this apathetic body
is ascetic and not something worth mentioning.
Photographical eyes, detached head, I live above
plastic trees and people made of things beyond blood
and bone, and their birdcage homes. Humans live in
darkness most of the time, crawling like infants.
This is a stupid way to live, like the dead underground,
surviving off the IV tap of manmade creek water.
I need new scenery, so daily in the evening I trespass,
wander the neighborhoods and spectate ghost-like.
My wealth is only counted by potted flowers,
and yet I have money for pointless musings: adorn
my face with sharp objects like a crow collecting
beautiful things, painful things, things.
2 thoughts on "Abundance of Things"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Loving your take on a commentary piece
This poem has great movement from one idea, image, and scene to the next. Also the way the last piercings in the last stanza cycle back toward the hair dye in the first was a very good way to tie off the poem. I enjoyed this.