Issue |
 |
March |
|
a poem by Rob Plath (2 of 2)
little accidental fists full of shit
there
are
some places
on this
planet
that are
obvious
indicators
that
we don't
belong
here
at
all
places
that
scream
that we
we will
not
endure
that
our
lives
are
all
accidental
that
our
ingenuity
only
goes
so
far
mt. everest
for
example
yet
humans
still
dumbly
scale
rocks
shrouded
in
clouds
but there
are other
places
not
so
obvious
right
within
yr
own
chest
the
four
waning
chambers
of
the
heart
that
strange
pump
that
opens
& closes
fueled
by
the
most
unreliable
& absurd
model
of
our
ingenuity:
love
the human
heart
which
eventually
ceases
like
an
engine
whether
it's
fooled
into
believing
it's
fulfilled
or
not
so
tip
back
another
glass
of
wine
quit
fooling
yrself
it
won't
be
long,
you
horribly
mistaken
sons
of
bitches
are
some places
on this
planet
that are
obvious
indicators
that
we don't
belong
here
at
all
that
scream
that we
we will
not
endure
our
lives
are
all
accidental
our
ingenuity
only
goes
so
far
for
example
humans
are other
places
not
so
obvious
within
yr
own
chest
four
waning
chambers
of
the
heart
strange
pump
that
opens
& closes
by
the
most
unreliable
& absurd
model
of
our
ingenuity:
love
heart
it's
fooled
into
believing
it's
fulfilled
or
not
tip
back
another
glass
of
wine
fooling
yrself
won't
be
long,
you
horribly
mistaken
sons
of
bitches