Thursday, February 17, 2011

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? (Who will guard the guards themselves?)

I dove into the freezing water
to try and catch
the steamship leaving the
green waters.
My fingers,
black and gone
now to never learn.
This is a place I never wanted to be,
and I can’t save myself.
The bottom of the ocean isn’t
so cold if you don’t think about it.
Drink the seawater and swallow what you can.
There was never a cure for it.
Crying in the rain, never knew which was which.
Stacking stones,
Drowning was something I wanted
So I swam to the deep
And to find,
One cannot breath.
And you can’t float on
Or you’ll die unless you’re
trying to drown yourself.
Then you’ll live and die.
It’s cold.
And I’m lying
Drunk and on a coach.
The floor is cold
the buzz rings out and I lunge.
To see colder words.
To cry now would be such
A blessing unto a hotel floor.
Dirty and remembrance
To lose again and again
Leaves one thinking he’s not very thoughtfull

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