misery, she

we walk side by side all night through twilight. we do not speak.

i decided (early on this evening) to accompany misery
up and down her street because somebody
once told me that she loves company.

to wake from sleep in order to find that it is not night,
that it is not morning, that it isn't the evening-

to awake from a dream only to find
that the fact everything
is wrong is right.

we open our eyes with eyes shut and realize
that we have never moved our feet
across anything but! nevermind,
nevermind. never the mind.

we realize with doubly opened eyes
that this whole while we thought we
were moving but really the concrete
was just rushing

like a stream

up and down that street

we realize that reality is synonymous with make-believe.

we decide that we are our own children.

we decide that hell isn't the opposite of heaven.

we realize that when we fell from grace we fell into the meaning of esteem

(and did so ever so gracefully).

you wear a frown on your face. i wear my heart on my sleeve;
a stranger asks me, 'say would you like a wet-towelette to clean
up that dark red mess on your shirt?'

you smile and laugh. i feel hurt.

i grab back the paper bag which contains our groceries

(which you were holding for me because i was complaining
and you were being considerate and caring) then empty

it out onto the street, then proceed to place the brown paper over
my head and i too begin laughing.

laughing yet feeling like screaming. wanting to leave immediately
however somehow staying over till the morning.

futile and infantile.

i feel hurt but i smile.

nothing will ever be 'worth your while' therefore everything is 'worth your while'.

answering questions with questions.

unlearning lessons- passing by failing

misery, she admonishes me to quit my walking
and commence crawling across and atop
of the sea.

i listen.

i listen to the sound of listening.

with a car parked, this is how we see in the dark.

nothing is glistening. nothing is pearly. nothing is nothing.