City of Love

The city of love
is a city of trash
and le Chat Noir
is le warning NO, a big bash in the paranoid head
Le Metro teems with possible threat
and everyone’s face is frightened and dead

Jet lag has taken away my ability
to know whether I’m just sick or depressed
the heart of gold, she hides in plain site
the heart of gold, how nobody figured that one out, what a blight.

Must I spell it out, that I tried
that I tried to be the shimmering light
that in order to shine I need to be seen
it’s quantum physics, that’s what I mean

Not a fraidy chat noir, NO
that kind of courage sparked an open passage
I went to the depths of love and found only skulls
and le warning NO, shhhh, and quiet
fragility lives here, hush or crush the cavern
moves true or false have power here
the choice: bury yourself alive
or crawl to the surface and flee
remember who you are, golden heart, heart of gold
remember who you are.

I cannot be dissolved in patterns
confused by mazes
I cannot fall again, knees cracked
fingers broken
I cannot fall again

It’s never a good sign to write poetry in one’s sleep
to wake up at 3, burning with ash in the throat
fending off sadness
never a good sign to cough up old bones, dust
never good to pull the skeletons of other bodies out of one’s own skin

time to yank on ye olde faithful switch of numbness
much like the emergency brake on Le Metro
stop this train
stop this pattern
stop this hopelessness
let the golden heart rise
let her rise up and be

All I want to do is give love and receive it
Is that too much to ask?
Must there always be such high stakes
must the payment always be compounded death?
I don’t want these skulls!
I don’t want this job!
I’m not the cemetery caretaker!
I’m the heart of gold, can’t you see it in my name?