Domino.

Everyone was standing around in a blinding light –

still trying to find a flow that would naturally go right –

most were only there out of a desire to simply write –

unfortunately, there will always also be:

those present with other, unseen things in mind –

with a hard-wired flaw deep down, inside –

with a hatred built into the circuitry –

that overtakes, sabotages everything –

the entire company so suddenly divides;

like a set of shiny, black-dotted-white –

dominos tumbling down a foreseen line –

all glossy and saucy with a high-lacquer sheen –

flat-lined on a card table next to a cup of free coffee –

pouting in the desert somewhere under a palm tree –

laying on the railroad ties while eating cake and ice cream –

and the point is that:

none of us even wanted or needed to know –

about the dramatics playing out on the side-lines –

and still everyone was forced to have to let the shade slip by –

fuck that, and fuck you for winding up so tight –

for thinking that the sun must have only you within its light –

when I said that I was your friend –

I admittedly, had spoken prematurely –

as you’d mislead my heart and mind –

as well of those of others who had stupidly –

decidedly, in blinded light –

let such parasitic drama in.

One thought on “Domino.

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