October 13, 2022
Broken Down
by Christian Anton Gerard
Thing about waiting on someone’s that you think real hard
on what it means to make yourself an equal opposite
reaction to an action ain’t been actioned yet.
I seen Mars so many nights this summer I think
we’re growing close. Maybe it’s time we start sending letters.
Like I’m going to start sending letters to Mars. I guess
it’s just, you know, I pray and pray and say her name,
but what if God’s sick of me talking want?
I’m sick of talking want and I’m the damned one
ready to write Mars cause I’m thinking God’s sick of me
talking want. Saying this out loud’s like a crazy saying he ain’t.
This life’s no blind-leading-the-blind type thing. No way.
Blind folk I know see better than I do and don’t give
a second’s thought to writing a red night-light asking
for some answer from her night quiet when I ain’t even asked
a question. Blind Jake keeps saying closing my eyes don’t mean
I’m some sleepwalking bumbler. No. Blind Jake don’t stutter.
He says close your damned eyes and see what you think
you’re waiting on or for. He says waiting on’s different than for.
Last night I tried to hear every prayer being said talking want.
You imagine hearing all that day and night and day and night?
Thing about waiting on someone’s that you think real hard
on what it means to make yourself an equal opposite
reaction to an action ain’t been actioned yet.
I started thinking fall’s when answers come. Makes sense
cause them leaves go away and there’s more sky, but
me and Mars been a thing this summer with leaves. Bet,
God gave me that red light because waiting’s its own fight.