broken viewer gazer

It is seldom without solace. Folded hands poised to dive inside themselves. When it rolls, it rolls over. There is no blinking. Nothing but astute. They brought you here but you will have to leave on your own. You will have to leave them. Their grip, your pain. Fantasy is as fantastic does. And places from faces through traces behind screens. They have money in their mouths. You, my lost friend, will have to pick it off their wet lips.

Some words without colors. Words to stare at. Words to frame. Impact. Lines from films repeated over and over. There I am. Scribbling in a notebook. Eavesdropping. I am just a stupid poet. Reading too much, learning too little. They're repeating conversations from yesterday. I was singing in the rain with everyone else. It was a pretty sight if you brought an umbrella. Otherwise you would have to squint. That might have been unnecessary to say but I haven't said anything. This is how it will continue. Undermining the underline. Until a song on the radio stands out and a line you always loved will reveal itself to mean something else than what was previously thought. You didn't even know you were thinking about it. This has nothing to do with what I have written down.

They take things. They take things like toes. Like teeny tiny toes plucked out like picking plums. Some feet walk on heels. Heels like heels. Squoosh like flies. A foot above me. I raise the cane over my head. I hold it up over my head and shake. This mighty crown. Bestow me. This mighty crown. Crown me. I don't hold a thing. I'm on the losing side. It doesn't hold me. I pour it. I set it. A foundation of steel built by thieves to bring me home again. A foundation of steel built by thieves to warm my feet.