070408A
-----------
Not much left to say,
when only catching the drift.
There is always a chance
at being had,
but never really the having.
You have to give it time,
but you never have time enough
before you run out of time.
I don't know who built the maze,
that we are so completely lost in
but I know of the beginning,
and I know of the ending..
I saw you disappear,
around a street corner,
down a twisted corridor
through another door.
Now I cannot find you,
and the monsters are laughing
at how lost we become.
----------------------------
070408B
-----------
You love to despise me,
for all the journeys
that I could not make.
You found *** appeal
in a pass****t full of visas
despising the restlessness
that paces out the boundaries
of a lesser world.
I envy all of your luck,
and that is always where
we go our separate ways.
My ticket was never punched.
Your's was always paid for.
The only chance had detonated
before we really knew
what any of it was really about.
------------------------------------
070408C
-----------
They always starve you,
after they give you a taste.
They starve you more
if a taste whets the appetite.
Sometimes they starve you
until you cannot eat.
Sometimes they starve you
with what you cannot eat any of.
And if I am starved for you,
there is always my growing fear
of being starved some more
for anything else.
I am starving for something,
and I am starved for you.
I am starving for anything
that suits these tastes.
Now I don't really know
who you really are.
Those who seemed to know
are already starved and gone.
I have starved for everything
that I ever really wanted.
I have tasted of that much,
but now I am still starved of you.
----------------------------------------
070408D
-----------
My good friends,
they don't know me.
They never ask
what I want,
and some think they know
what I need.
You almost knew me,
but there is no one left
who really cares,
about knowing.
There is that commerce
of relations,
that always feels bankrupt.
There is nothing there
we would ever want to touch.
It is cold as beaten metal,
decaying like a dead dove.
We can ask forever,
knowing the answers given
are never the answers we need,
If we could really meet,
on a chanced corner,
along some wayward street.
Dreams are made of that now,
offering not much else,
from all the broken conversations
of all those crowded little rooms..
They told you something else,
so you never asked me,
and you never really listened.
They make us spend
so very much time dying,
we hardly have any time to live.
We try to keep up
some resemblance to living,
in excerpts of advertising,
where little is ever proven
other than fear of individuality.
Not that we really believe
that anything really connects,
------------------------------------
070408E
-----------
Cowards,
show your faces.
So that we can spit at them.
We want to hate you,
while looking
straight into your eyes.
All you ever wanted for us
was nothing,
and some thanks for that.
Cowards,
Why don't you shoot us,
point blank,
toss our dead bodies
with red badges of courage,
out into the public streets.
You prefer silent,
invisible assassinations,
not martyrs.
Cowards,
that way you can tell everyone,
you didn't want anything
to really succeed.
You always want
whatever there is,
to be something else,
Hang a sign on us,
Parade us around the streets.
Cowards,
you behave like nazis
treating us,
as if we are holocaust jews.
More Jesus of Nazareth,
being something to blame
for all your failures.
There is never enough heroism
or sacrifice to suit you.
Cowards,
we are the paranoids
who hate you.
We are the sick
conspiracy theorists
who despise you.
You send us to the devil,
but you never confess
that you are really him.
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