8 Years

To the boys and to the girls
so incapable of infiltration
do try, bat your eyes
but of course let it be known
you will lose

To the boys with the burning eyes
wandering hands in bars
sell yourself desperately, but know
you are new – there are not eight years
and you haven’t the patience
you don’t want me beyond bars
beyond drunken nights and pink wine
you are such a man, yeah, tell me again
but you haven’t it in you to know me

And to the girls, yeah I’m sure
that when you ignore me at parties
it isn’t due to desperation, and I feel
some empathy when your eyes pass over
and okay – I am sure that you are nicer
and I myself am mean, but a history of violence
doesn’t negate me as a motivator
camped out in fields and under rainy windows
I can motivate him to a new home
to a grass clearing in the San Gabriel mountains
and I’m sorry, sure, I’ve sympathy
but you haven’t it in you
to break up a family

So to those dearest boys and girls
who try so hard, who might be alright
actually, well for somebody
but for two people with history
a hundred shows, sleepless nights
you haven’t the wherewithal to entertain
my motivations and conversations
a joint understanding beyond lovers
beyond family or friends – put simply,
you haven’t got eight years

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1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “8 Years

  1. Mmm this is all too familiar, allowing me to feel my sleepless memories. Thanks again.

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