that i was not an atm,

or the last person on your list

to call since no one else wants to

pick that damn number,

or when only smile and play coy

if a carrot sticks out.

i know, who doesn’t right?

or when human interaction has become

so polite, it borderlines on. something.

misplaced, hard to define, like sugar, too much

salt, i guess the news isn’t anything unless

someone gossips, goes into shock, yeah, that’s when it sell.

hey, don’t get me wrong,

we all want a penny, some want more,

and yet the carrot is mushed, rotting about, like sludge

filtering into mineral water.

i can’t get that taste out of my mouth,

it stinks!

you nod, i nod, you doze, i do too

as leaves descend, becomes yellow, then brown,

finally crumbles apart,

the stain leaves an imprint on the hard granite floor.

like our memories sewn together,

this by product made of of many color woven fabric

intertwining together.

you call it blasphemy, i call it revenge,

you call it reality, i call it delusion,

name callings never got us anywhere,

then the earth erupts, that’s not good either is it?

nah, nothing ever is,

this ideal, dream of utopia, more like naive days

unable to withstand

the passage of time. and time always wins.