here i lie (not yet asleep) in my childhood bedroom (my soul to keep) under my childhood quilt (made by my grandmother) holding my childhood cat (could there by any other?) and listening to the cicadas cry over (mourn) the loss of my sister (come morn) when she moves away (just to our college town) into her tiny, adulthood dorm (someday to wear a cap and gown) with her adulthood newfound friends(i thought it was just the four of us) and her adulthood future portends (why couldn't it have always been the four of us?) and listening to her professors drone on (just like the cicada) as she compiles reports, and essays, in jargon (raw data) and- and- and i wonder, will she miss me too?
espresso bean in the espresso machine located here in the mezzanine we serve your drinks with sweetness and cream a fountain of everlasting caffeine. espresso bean in the espresso machine and not just coffee, we also serve cuisine! the chocolate brownie is a hit with the teens huddled together near the register screen. espresso bean in the espresso machine here the noise is quite serene amidst those coming and going, a calm in-between come on over! help set the scene! espresso bean in the espresso machine week after month, to form a routine yet the tasks of today remain unseen ‘tis the life of those on the library team.
sycophantic silhouette stalks into the room and the woman who casts it brings death, immortal doom she bids disguise fall when the man sees her through never a dame, but bluegreenbrown eyes, same as you you, who lives their life by ritual, routine will never see the cold, red blood or the glistening sheen of sweat on the brow of a new, soft corpse or the embers of the flame that drive you north your cadence keeps you pliant, your rhyme bids you no further! what drove you to this, to poetry, to murder? as the blade bids adieu through the back of his skull and the red of his head grows increasingly dull and the light bleeds out of the sword in his eye ‘any woman can see him orgasm, but how many see him die?’