Decomposition (Reworked and Republished)

Decomposition

Fragmentation

The man stares back, no hiding the grizzled face
Start of crow's feet there, a smile line turned frown line there
Is asked pointedly, "Do you feel all is lost? Has it fallen so far?"
His sigh releases, shoulders falling in counterpoint
He begins to shake a no, but lying to anyone
Comes too hard, the truth screams for revealing

"Go back then, go back."

Division

Was it the face of his son contorting in grief?
His sobs of refusal, denial?
Watching the world crash around his ears?
His pleas of "No! No! No!" ring still in your ears.
You look to your soon to be ex, and she looks away
Not willing to bear any of this burden
You spoke, you carry the water
Let it weigh you down like stones around your neck
Dragging you to the depths of your own hell
Swallow down a lump like clay baked in a bomb
Ashes fall around you, from the lives burned

"No, further back.  Go back further."

Annihilation

The wasted panic as superstars fell like comets
Your mentor dead with the cancer that stripped he
And you of a moral compass, the finger, the words
Falsity and deception, overt and covert
Make money for shareholders, make it fast
So you fled, against all sense and rationality
New home smell not even yet rubbed from the carpet
Grass still a fleeting hope, construction mud at the curb
Discarding fast ascent for sure footing
The disappointment in their faces, and in yours
At night the thwop-thwop of the fan accuses you

"Back further.  Even further."

Contention

Honking horns on Saturday night
Bars releasing their sponged product into the world
Screeching tires, sirens, and a narrow empty bed
High white ceiling where you never painted
Crab hammers banging below, the TV laughs
Air conditioning switches on with a rush
Cool air dries sweat from your head
Only blocks away her window unit will be howling
She'll be lying with sheet puddled at her feet
Sweating, and hearing your retorts in her ear
Low voiced speech well rehearsed, delivered
A phone click as an applause.

"No, further back.  Much further."

Apprehension

Ocean Highway is deserted through the windows
Transplanted palms sit like columns in a destroyed temple
Clink of silverware on plates, coffee smell slightly nauseating
She brings a piece of pie and a wan smile, her apron stained
Apologetically says they have no cake, and by the way
Happy Birthday
No one claimed 23 was an auspicious one anyway
So Denny's is as good a place as any to send it along
The door opens and beach air flies through like an anxious dog
Carrying salt and sand scent, forlorn like a failed swamp
The sound of sugar spilling into coffee is like thunder

"Even further back. Further."

Combustion

Sofa cushions in need of cleaning sag under you
The needle drops and the thump of Boston repeats
Someone cuts a lawn outside, adding electric buzz to the guitar track
In the downstairs bathroom, you look into the mirror
Smoke curling up from one nostril, pipe still smoldering
Eyes thud with your heartbeat, and cannabis dreams begin anew
Eternal summer, eternal day, a sense of foreboding
You stare deep into the eyes of the boy-man in the mirror
Wondering if it will be better soon
Cicadas shriek in the trees over the call of the mower

Decomposition

The man staring back examines his grizzled face
Old songs play from his iPod, some choke him as he sings along
What turning point?  Where a different tack?  Another route?
Accusing eyes, framed by nascent crows feet look back
He covers those eyes with his hands over the mirror
Sees the blood drip down to the sink, red threads spread
Turns to the full tub and settles down to think
"Far enough now.  Far enough"
The water turns slowly crimson, a magic sand effect
You catch a whiff of surf and sand, of pie
Outside the cicadas shriek over top of a lawnmower
On the iPod, Boston plays to now deafening ears
"Far enough."