Under Human Lines

Under Human Lines~ Joseph Altamore

“ur CUTE!”

the email says 

from some girl in your

spam folder
you sit in bed 

in your

vomit-crusted t-shirt,

the gnarls in your hair

battling the matted, greasy valleys,

the circles of your eyes

like canyons,

jaundiced, yellowing skin,

blood pouring forth from

a split winter lip,

socks a week old,

pants a week old,

beard a week old
you stare out the window

under human lines,

at the bustling street, sleety 

and

bleared through 

the backwashed film-caked

glass
the frost

leapt forward to snap with the morning

today,

glossing the whole urban world

in a blanched 

web
the traffic lights wink,

the horns curse,

the working men writhe

in their safety belts

in your childhood, the
changes were slow 

as the hours of new&hesitant love,

enamor with the world 

was honest and

full of laughter
but now,

god is twirling the planet 

on his finger

like a living basketball

faster&faster
earth transpires;
a glassy-eyed addict prays, his

fingers bitten by the bible

clutched in his

chapped, leathered

hands,

an officer stops a car,

exhaust eats the sky,

knuckles crack in the supermarket,

eyes close in the alleyway

the cats catch the mice,

the dogs eat the cats,

and

nothingness cloaks itself in transparent wait

for the end

of 

all the above
but at least 

they say

that

you’re cute

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