Mitt Romney’s BINDER full of GAFFES.
PMA
Sit in the dark
stare at a wall
hope the answers come to you.
Stand in the light
raise your hands to the sky
realize there are no answers.
I WONDER…
FIXED
I hope all my stolen bicycles
got ridden fast
and passed around often
had their best parts swapped out
and traded for drugs
that were used to write good songs
and have good young fun
like stealing bigger things
and crashing them into walls
and getting arrested on accident
and getting ratted out by a guy
who only days earlier
let you burn him with a cigarette lighter
because he said you were brothers for life.
I hope they found new homes
in abandoned warehouses
and darkened alleys
and were taken in by older men
who could no longer hold a license
were running from something
weren’t supposed to be here at all.
I hope those men took off on them
as far as they could get
before their old knees and old hearts gave in
and stranded them
some place they’d never been
and never thought they’d be
and they met someone there
at a store
on a dark road
who reminded them of a daughter
they hadn’t spoken to in some time
and they tried to call her
but the line was dead.
I hope the remains
were salvaged for scrap
by industrious someones
good with their hands
who saw promise in those old beasts
and roped them to a roof
and drove them through the rain
and into a converted garage
where they were stripped with gasoline
and fit with different pieces
from orphaned others
and made strangely better
spray painted a young child’s favorite color
and given as a gifts
from one person to another
the first gift they would ever get
that would teach them the value
of falling down
and getting back up again.
Funny to think about. The other day someone asked me if I’m having a good weekend, and I said “not really. been working.” He was at work too, so he must have understood the sentiment, but he didn’t say anything to me after that. People want us to be honest but really they just want us to pretend to be honest and say what they want to hear instead.
HOW’S IT GOING?
How often
in your day
do you lie to total strangers
about being content?
dallasclayton: I WANT TO UNDERSTAND THIS POEM SO BADDD!!!
UPGRADE
He enters the room.
It is white.
It smells empty.
There are no windows.
At the far end
two buttons, large red buttons, are mounted on the wall.
One is marked: Regular.
The other is marked: Premium.
He crosses.
Examines.
No further instructions.
He thinks for a moment
reaches out his hand
and presses “Premium.”
A buzzing sounds,
as from the ceiling
a massive cloud of bees is released.
They converge upon him.
Stinging. Stinging. Stinging.
He flees,
panicked,
remorseful,
yet strangely satisfied.
POLYGRAPH
I read a study
regarding our ability to lie
and how it showcases an accelerated aptitude
the younger it takes hold.
Children who lie and get away with it
are rewarded as they lie with a direct goal in mind.
Children who lie and don’t get away with it
are punished
and learn to lie better and more effectively next time.
Thus we are left to raise a flock
of fast-paced liars
rewarded every time they fleece and honest soul.
The questions not asked in this study :
Why do we surround our children
with goals worth lying for?
And moreover, why do they feel their
role models are worth deceiving?
CANDLE
The light from a basement window
as seen from the street
past two AM
can mean many things
my favorite of which
is that someone is fast at work
changing a life that once was
into a life that might soon be.
This is very good advice.
dallasclayton:
HELP
If you took all the time you spent complaining
about feeling like a better person
and learned how to make furniture with your hands
and fix your own car
you would be a better person
and everyone would know it
and you would be happier.
