To make sinking stones fly

October 19th, 2008

One hand on this wily comet, take a drink just to give me some weight. Some uber-man I’d make; I’m barely a vapor. They shone a chlorine light on a host of individual sins. Let’s carve my aging face off; fetch us a knife. Start with my eyes, down so the lines form a grimacing smile.

Close your eyes to corral a virtue. Is this fooling anyone else? Never worked so long and hard to cement a failure. We can blow on our thumbs and posture but the lonely are such delicate things. The wind from a wasp could blow them into the sea with stones on their feet; lost to the light and the loving we need.

Still to come: the worst part and you know it. There is a numbness in your heart and it’s growing.

With burnt sage and a forest of bygones I click my heels, get the devils in line. A list of things I could lay the blame on might give me a way out. But with each turn it’s this front and center, like a dart stuck square in your eye. Every post you can hitch your faith on is a pie in the sky, chock full of lies, a tool we devise to make sinking stones fly.

And still to come: the worst part and you know it. There is a numbness in your heart and it’s growing.

A Comet Appears by The Shins

Buy the song from iTunes.

Entry Filed under: Life