Cheat on your wife,
Call your mother on Mother’s Day.
Convince yourself with all your right,
That you do some form of real honesty.
Still, despite all the false tendencies
Convict yourself of petty crimes so that
Problem that you could never really solve
Weighs less on you, breath more will you now?
Forgive, make believe the lies of good
Deeds, of legacies and good wills, good Karma,
Good, good, good, yes please.
Make sure they’re there; make sure numbness subsides,
Cheat on your husband,
Call your father on Father’s Day,
Forgive the little lies we hide under
The beds. Forget the promises made,
Under work, under moons, under the meadow,
In the shade, behind private-public faces.
To me, I am but a tab on you,
To you, you breathe rancid.
Morning dew on rot, is just wet rot.
Sharper the harpoons are, the speedier
We commit ourselves. Thicker the hide,
Double the gore, nimble with your toes,
And we still wish we had those roses
On our breasts, in our hair and vows.
Insert wise saying here, and
-Make it easy-
Shut yourself up, don’t listen.
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