corner of the world

I stare at the corner of the world

Where the lies are cherry sweet, 

are the buoyed knots, fishing poles jutting out from the deep; 

of Texas summers, muggy, foggy

the sound of $10 dimes tinking against the glass window, 

swallowed whines of abandoned hounds, 

Of wasted, counted, measured, known,

rivers three feet wide, three feet deep outside our window

of southern spring, El Nino raging its war on the wind, 

me raging my battles on you in days youthful passing, 

But more forgiving then the neighbor’s chimes broken on the porch, 

then the rabbit that met some greater being in our backyard;

and anger matured from then, continues to move 

and dry out in the desert heat; 

dollar bills jutting from the deep, 

And the backs silhouetted on the sunset, 

Eclipse the whole street and the vinyl paneling;

all the times you compromised 

starred sheets of praise, words of horrid valor

Is but the choice, option, alternative, solution

you’ve ignored,

It’s yourself propped up on the jutting world, 

your world

You ignored

and less forgiving than a dog bite, 

or the burning cigarette that matches the color of your eyes; 

or the broken glass glittering like rain in the streets

leading trails of fire ants straight into the maw of all the times you’ve compromised;

and disappointingly, 

It made you someone the sun doesn’t wish to see. 

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