thus passes the glory of the world
the quiet in this room hurts
i don't know what to do
you're absent, and i summon to my thoughts
times when our feet were on the stoop, eyes in the stars
when the glory was our camaraderie, reckless and unshakable
a remembered fraction of your joy
to take and rest my worried hands on
i mull over our stupid happiness
weightless hours, fled on the wings of youth
rare but it came often
prior to the wretched migration of the good
beer and cheese fries and ignored naivete
laid heavy on our tongues, our limbs unnaturally light
we would float down the streets
weave through the trees
mischievous ghosts meaning no harm but to ourselves
and we saw everything like it was stripped
so we were only aware of the beautiful skeletons
L E D orange showed us the spectacular
we were spectacular, too
reality is a porcelain plate, or the foundation of a house
chips and cracks move furious through the cement or the glossy white
when we glance away distracted
too soon we can't use that plate
can't live in that house anymore
in this room i sit and sigh about the past glory of the world
uncut and springing up from the core of you
without your shaking laugh and mannerisms
i don't know what to do
we're still children
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