any love when I'm looking. In your mundane
weather reporting. Your beat up shoes,
for instance. I don't find the love anywhere.
Not in your precious gardens. Not on
your lovely doorstep, not at your decorated
gates. In the skies overlooking
your feverish dreams. I don't feel the love
as you secretly approach with your road
closed eyes. I said I wouldn't be surprised,
and I'm not. That sometimes I can't feel the
simple, endless love that's supposed to be
inside everything. But it still haunts me.
Sometimes I can't see past the boulders in
your frightened blank stares at the forest of
fast rising screens overtaking even
the strongest of trees. I don't find love driving
around in your caravan of billions
of cars. I don't feel the love in the
sad, indifferent accusations you
lobby against others who certainly
don't look and act the way you did when you
were that young. Your gamed remainders and your
constant reminders of poorly rewritten
histrionics. Your blood-soaked fear of
lost bird feathers. Sometimes I can't see love
wanting to live in your houses with you.
Your obsession with enough clocks to choke
a king horse. Your kindness in a museum-
framed tomb nailed to the walls of your dark and
windowless hearts. The sunken treasure
trove of our time. I don't find the love I'm
looking for waiting for the mailman or
the latest delivery truck to enter
my neighborhood. I don't feel the love
showing me the way to enjoy this life
I've been given. Brian Wilson died and
people began telling cruel jokes in his
honor. Aurora said she would never
unleash hatred upon this world. Don't blame
people trying to better themselves. And
please don't feel bad asking for change. People
in the wild west don't know what she is talking
about. They go on harming each other
in as many ways as there are stars.
Sometimes I can't see anything coming
at us but more emotional blackmail
from our leaders' stubborn and greedy minds.
Still, I'm glad you are here, too, even if
I don't get to shake your hand personally.
This is my way to accomplish that.