18 June 2008

Zach Moll

zach moll
9-5 daze

Half of me wants out
And the other half is working overtime to breathe,
They’re both juggling premeditated drab on a tightrope
With audience aware,

I’m the naggin’ newcomer to the
Daily stop and go,
Hearing whip cracks
Yet unseen,
But lashed just the same,
A tragic child in the tire tracks
Being trampled in the pursuit of dimes,
But my tears only made the mud thicker
& slowed my trek into a crawl,
So I drown my redundant ways
In the very mud it made,
Lifted myself,
& walked to the front of the line
To see what I had missed.

I found old bodies

With gray eyes
Swaying in the 9-5 daze,
Their hands were callused and black
With what seemed like permanent stains,
Refuges from the world without
Who looked as if they’d fall before retire,
But it seemed to me,
A glimmer remained in their eyes,
A glimmer scanning years ahead
To the yellow tape of freedom,
And then,
Then there’d be time.

Time for…
Time for…

Well, there’d be time.

hollow breaths of creation

Once when wonder
Was new
This all seemed well
Worth it

For I never

Until I too
A thing of
The lips

Just the same as
Only with

& that image
The most
Daunting of
Them all

To be captain
Of a
Vessel only

To proceed on
As if
I were surprised
With it

This landscape
& chased
Horizon of
The damned.

no help for the helpless

Eat forty more of the mysterious blue ones
& God will appear like a ripe eggplant
All stout
and covered with bugs,
His crucial word will ring this,

The night is there for sleeping because
You don’t see so well in darkness,
May I borrow a dime for the meter?”

And we’ll blow each other to bits
Trying to decipher his intention through
Miserable, lonely old words,

Meanwhile we devour the eggplant
& chew it with intentions.

like scissors on a string we flail madly, wholly, complete

certifiable independence
jimmies foreclosure
like meddled insignias
written in braille
on the fringe
of hydra like nerve endings
popping collars
during a brainstorm reveille
in c minor dependency
and the i'm ok,
it was refractivity
you heard
echoing obscenity
off the cobblestone
complexities sonar
bobbing for play
from the back
of a barrel
of masturbatory fantasies
where the libertines quicken
yes! yes! yes!
to bed
early to rise
in succession
with a life
that closely resembles
my own

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