Amy Dillon
April 24th, 2015
I know why we are at war
It’s because the wings on our backs are breaking
I know why our backs are soar
It’s because the hell under our feet is shaking
Some know why this ice age melts
It’s because our ancestors are defrosting with festering diseases
Some deal back the cards they are dealt
The king and queen are majesties but the ace and joker are teases
Lots of people’s claim to fame is their wealth or their home
Lots of people want to learn to show the world their bullshit by writing a poem
But what happens when bullshit leads to truth and truth leads to knowledge
And knowledge leads to doubt and doubt leads to barely passing college
And barely passing college leads to the job of your dreams
And the job of your dreams slips through the seams
When you find out what the combination of the words “soul searching” really means
And you find a home and you kick back and relax
And you become an alcoholic who thinks heaven are two six packs
And you go into rehab and you come back exorcised
Because before you were possessed by the statue made by Picasso outside your apartment window, the perfect creation of city life exemplified
And you learn to play the piano and when you press down on the keys
That sly vision of ambiguity is all your mind allows you to see
Until you find another job one day were you can see The Bean from outside your office window
And you think to yourself, “Well, to give myself to another, this has to be some type of sin, though.”
And the rain comes and taps itself over the grey of The Bean like your piano keys
Until you decide know that The Bean is the thing that this part of the city is somehow meant to please.