There was a cub,

Who did devour,

The blackness of the wedding night.

He stayed awake,

In night’s coal black loch,

His dreams his only fluorescence.

He loved wedding night for the suspense;

The silence just before the climax,

The expectant yips in the hot air.

He loved weeknight for the possibilities;

In the yesterday, everything is all laid before he;

Everything is the fit it appears.

But in the black,

Everything she wanted existed at his fingertips;

Revery with his eyes open.

They loved withholding the amity close,

She could always bet on the weeknight

To glut placidity in a natural order whrere

Poise was like the sunset;

Beautiful, fleeting, and taken for granted.

But he liked the wedding night mostly for the idiom it exposed everything’s true eigenvalue of a matrix.

She would gaze at the things on his davenport,

As we were engulfed by a ruthless coal tar,

A coal tar that left stage the things no atom or being.

She watched his box camera, his mp3 lacrosse player,

His binder, his introduction, his wallet, his pencils,

Pens, and books ripped of ther dignity,

Withdrawal only a ghost of faded self-hatred behind.

These things were dirtied,

Blackened every wedding night by the other mediety of ghetto,

Not fit for the deviltry of real world,

Only fit for cheesy slogans, bright ensign, and hollow agitprop

Which has take effect society’s masterstroke.

The sable exposed something else.

It made the glow loom all the brighter.

The glow from the blaze;

The blaze in the boy’s unconscious mind.

The blaze of burden,

Of ghetto,

Of imaginary being,

The blazing of his ghost.

We fed it each wedding night

Into a great bonfire

Which she danced around,

Roasted marshmellows on,

And warmed himself with

When ghetto was head cold.

In the date,

He stayed away,

From chosen people they did break loose.

But at night,

They embraced the hush,

And let his dreams go free.

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Tags: dark ghetto, stage left chicago, stage left new brunswick nj