Friday, January 09, 2015

These metaphors

Relationships are Always motion towards a goal.
A straight sleek speeding autobahn
Zipping past the signposts for
Christmas dinner with your parents


Maybe give or take a few.
Maybe not in that order.
Although Death stays last.

Unless you’re Lazarus.
Or Rik Mayall.
He stayed dead
For two days longer than Christ, he said.
That was first time round.
Second time, he’s got it down.
(Flashheart, I can’t wait
2000 years plus.)

But Always motion towards.

Or is it always?
Can it be
Just motion.

Bed squeaking.

A carousel of bite sound scent touch.

Maybe they can be more like a roundabout off that road
But then I see us there, and roundabouts
Are really not our thing
Round and round, which exit? Which exit?
Which. Fucking. Exit?
I don’t know, I don’t know, stop asking.

Not a roundabout then.
The carousel is better because
You might not want to get off
(Of course you want to get off,
But you might not want to get off).

But even the carousel stops.

While the road isn’t so straightforward either
Forks and ways you could go but didn’t
Driven off the road by someone
In a juggernaut
Smashes and collisions
Picking up the charred flesh
And the splintered bones and
Smooshing them together

Which works

Because relationships can be pieced back
When bodies cannot be.

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