Nathan And I In A Room Of Parasites Poem by Dan Walters

Nathan and I in a room of parasites
Listening to C-Minor
And the Seven Sisters walk out into the room
Where hope had gone, it must have been great
Hope itself or to were we wish to be
Our footsteps seem an aimless path
We turn to each other with the same thought:
The cure must be somewhere in the scum that covers us
And they try on a smile. Pretty
Confine in the mirror
To find beautiful grey matter
But nonetheless tripudium stays
In it’s [befitting] darkness
And felix felicious remains unseen
Hanging in what could be our line of sight
But kept brushing lightly against our hair
Of course then it doesn’t really exist
Unless snatched from the air
And stashed in our socks
Caused by our hands
And effect. Be it our own
Whether our shadow casts a long black monster
Or the tree produces it’s anticipated [wellness]

They spoke in somewhat unconsciousness
And we listened all the same
At last they shut their [empty] [voice box]
But then painted that false statement
[perfectly centered low on their faces]