Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Erik Priedkalns

Where’s Happy now?
Why’s it so hard to get that fix?
Lows stay forever,
Highs go like an LA snow.
What about you, Smiley Face?
Softly speaking, Calm.
Never heard a single word.
Never saw the red sky warning.
Where’d you stow the frenzied Beast?
Snarling, tearing, ripping peace,
piercing joy like a fisherman’s gaff.
Outside, inside, did it ever stop?
Screaming, screaming,
Telling you. . .
Telling you what?
How’d you ever fake the happy?
How’d you freeze that petrified smile?
Did anyone dig behind that face?
Did anyone slice beneath the calm?
My god, how did you carry the Sisyphus burden?
Maybe someone else should have took your stone.
The End
I see it from the peep show view,
you picked the perfect, postcard setting.
The Click – the only last rite given.
The Eulogy – Sermon from the screaming Beast.
The subject? You, the lonesome shadow.
The church,
your car in a pullout pocket;
praying to nothing but empty air.
The music, Rolled-Up Window Silence.
The world shut out. Cold hearts driving by.
And for a breath, the unspoken thought, “so this is lonely.”
Hand and fingers wrap your metallic companion.
You were gone right after the deafening sound.
Never heard a single word.
Never saw the red sky warning.

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