Post Title - (poem)

Pompadour,

Ostrea puelchana_

do we languish

as we suffer alone?

isolated

in these little glass shells

where you located
under the skin?

in these timeless hells we call
home?

and if I misspoke

why'd you misstep?--

--on that loose step on the stair

sometimes you don't see the bruises
because they're under the hair

you wanna whisper I was golden?

that my red delicious was stolen?

when thee entire system is sentimental & ornamental

while we lie as dust blowin'
in a transcendental wind

where havin' a kid is taking a bid
and the adults don't know that the present *IS* the future...

and you know it's comin'
but you don't know when

& you cry into your pillow because no one listened

and you've been disowned

found yourself wishing

you'd been left

alone.