C.L. Bledsoe

cream      white      light
           like butter spread      over white bread
                     the day        silts
barges      sneaks      through cracked
           blinds      eating      darkness
           like two many bagels on an early
flight     with one packet of cream cheese
            vaguely reminiscent     of mayonnaise
                                  the days
             like legs      eat the meat      until they ride
your face      like love      or at least
you have no      choice

eat away      break teeth      chip jaws
            on the morning      sell
                       pantomimes until
all style depends on emulation
            of your      industriousness
Lawn Darts     Pez     Pet Rocks
            have nothing

and noise     children
            killing silence with arrows
standing   (these same)   dirty clothes     no shoes
                       in the parking lot
             staring       in the middle
of the road     as I screech
           slide      stop      drowsy eyes blink
throwing dust into their faces
                                  they blink
                       smile     sometimes wave
and do not move

nothing     will remain of them
             nothing but the lives      they’ve given groggy eyes
             the mornings      they’ve ruined

if I hate
             them      (child/ren that
                        they are)       at least
              I’ve      taken more notice
than parents    sleeping
                         somehow      under a blanket
             of      television    booze     meth
is no excuse      for the simple fact
             that some people      (I’m moderately
well aware I’m one) simply shouldn’t