“Moving”

I'm moving cross the country
like a tadpole in a pool
at the zoo.
I finally find
all I've been missin',
as the bloating body hisses
from the hole in her head.
She put it there herself,
again,
as the poetry begins
and the singer ends
with a click,
with a click,
with a click,
with a click,
with a click,
then a boom.

"Gone too soon."

Everybody freezes.
Nobody is called.
Everybody leaves
me alone.
Nobody falls in love
with a heart that beats
no more in a tomb.

Click,
click,
boom.

I'm moving in a train,
cross the country,
sleepin' against a window,
cold.
But I wake up warm.
I always wake up warm,
so far,
so far from home.
And I'm moving again
and again
and again.
Who cares? Nobody calls
cuz the danger is being
too close,
too close to it all
when the impulse
paws with no pause.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Am I the same age,
now?
Or am I older?
Does it even matter?
I feel so much younger
than I did,
when I wake up harder
than a bullet,
loaded,
with no target.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I'm going to dream,
disconnected from the truth;
wake up again
to the fake, fake news.
"Everybody is going to lose."

Click,
click,
boom.

I remind her she's dead
again.
She thinks she's alive
again
when my amnesic neurons
resurrect her voice,
her visage,
her sense of pause;
everything that made her
her
when we're talking
over coffee.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

She doesn't want to
believe me.
She laughs.
She tries to tell me
this dream
is the real life.
It's not.
I'm not
even sure
this is.
It's not.
I tell her,
"Hah,
this
is
exactly
something she
would say,"
as I suffocate
on existence.
"For goodness sake,"
she laughs
and reminds me
to breathe.
Everybody leaves
till I wake up alone;
a song in my head.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I'm going to write down
these words again,
remember how it was
I felt
moving cross the country
in a train,
sleepin' against the window,
cold. Everyone around me
snores.
The freight train groans.
I'm stopped again.
But we'll be moving
again
real
soon.

Click,
click,
boom.

Am I older
than I was?
I feel so much
younger.
"Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?"

Shhh.

narrative poem written on 03-05-2017 by: on mattkane.com
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