Gershwins and Mozarts

Oedipal reactions turn on the black of the tuxedo. I'm asleep. I'm mother and child. To the men I've let love me.

I'm awake and listening to the sound of you forgetting me. The chirp of crickets after the rain has subsided. Stray dogs pissing on a passing funeral. I don't know why I'm lost. I only know that it so. I wake up and can't see anything except what is gone. What was never there.

Lives like dominoes spilling into each other until no one is left standing. A hungry wolf with more to prove than to say.

These fairy tales shooting us out of their cannons. Those moments all too prepared for our impact. Like we were always lost.

And never knew it. Until we found ourselves there.