Whatever is, harbors its own unease.
The spring aches, and the taut line sags to the ground.
Green leaves pull skyward, blind roots hunger down
To dark necessities.
Even stirs restless and explodes to odd;
Odd strains for symmetry, limps home to even.
In the light-spangled solitude of heaven
God reels away from God.
And in the heart, born single ad a kiss,
Broods the sad other-yearner, learner, dier-
That knows, uncomforted, its one desire
Was not for this.
I stretch out,
I stretch all over
in my body
as in a large, luxurious sleeping bag.
And then I fall
to the bottom of happiness.
"We are like a punk rock song cause when we met it didn’t take long and we are like a pop punk song cause it sounds so sweet when you sing along."
— Firecracker by Parasol