Hydroplaning
by Julian X  /  poetry  /  15 Sep 2008
As he watches the telly, his daughter's hydroplaning.
You're helpless when the gods have spoken; only blind faith's left unbroken.
As he watches the telly, his daughter's hydroplaning.
Confident personas worn like clothes, girlie girls hiding their self-hatred, airbrushing every personal failure, the cynical fashion show.
Why love when lovers can so calmly take wrecking balls to lives?
As he watches the telly, his daughter's hydroplaning.
He eats his hamburger, thoughtless of the sick cow, half-dead, as the spike fails to kill its brain. The whole world an abattoir.
She's helpless to express her fears, incapable of knowing them universal. He knew they were all one, but bedding her was so zero-sum.
I offered up my help; she offered up her skirt.
As he watches the telly, his daughter's hydroplaning.
I've never said a single thing that was real. I've never clawed forward toward the true. I've lived only lies, comfortable in their certainty, every move afraid, in shock at life's contingency.
As he watches the telly, his daughter's hydroplaning.
His daughter's hydroplaning.
His daughter's hydroplaning.
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