We live on borrowed time
A conceptual soup of politicians and insurance salesmen
All else is snake oil and magic beans sold
For one squirt of a day you will be
Too old, too drugged, too settled, and past your prime.
We live on the bones and air
Led by wrote and by vote into the slavery of safety sake
Otherwise left to the wilds of teetering fate
Only to wake up one sunny red day
Reality a day too late, wasteful and tasteful, an unfair snare.
We live on a spec of dust
A cannonball hurled aflame toward the confused mantle clock
Trust is in the silver bank I think
Eat drink be merry fleecing
So very fighting extinct in her musty curvy lust.
We live on a whisp of a wire
A rubber band stretches and breaks as she flies through the air
To inquire of breath held and blue
It is bought and paid for by generations before
This crew, this fire, these stockings, this liar.
We live on wide-spread fear
Soul and faith and veil invisible beasts
That eat away by second guessing girding today’s third eye
Cut off from all tomorrows, forks, and larks
Waiting to live, waiting to die, never shedding again this same tear.
We lived on bread, oranges, and wine
Each step that met the path we owned whole-heartedly in those days
It is always said, “Didn’t she look like her self?”
She came, she saw, she conquered…maybe she loved
What wealth, what free gift, what divine sign?
(I think I heard her laughing.)
2008 Copyright. All Rights Reserved to Mariam Muradian.