FEAR

fear is the strings that move the fingers across the typewriter
fear is the blood that pumps the legs through the unemployment line

fear is the crackle behind the mother’s voice in the son’s head
the father’s voice in the daughter’s head
fear is the force that lifts the blouse over the head
the pants down off the ankles
fear is the wind that blows the sheets off of the bed

fear is the truth that pushes the words from the back of the throat to the ears of the anxious
fear is the fire in the pit of the stomach that burns the oils of regret

fear is not the torch that leads through the tunnel
fear is what you are left with when the light goes out
when you walk blindly using the broken glass beneath your uncalloused feet to guide you to uncertain rooms, uncertain bars,
uncertain jobs, wars, trenches
into the uncertain hands of uncertain lovers
where on off day days you get a good glance at something fleeting
but worth the walk

fear is not the snap of a father’s belt

fear is those residual scars you choose to keep
and those you let fade
those battles you fight like a mad man
and those you let go of like lovers
you wanted to hold onto
but sometimes the things we want most
are the things that would kill us

fear is the bones beneath the skin of courage
and fear is what is left in the ground
when we disattach
unafraid
from our bodies

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012

READ “LOITERING IN THE PARKING LOT OF AN EVIL BANKING CORPORATION”

About these ads

MUSIC VS. WAR

war has lost a lot of lives
while trying to save others
music has saved a lot of lives
but lost a few big ones in the process

war rarely is depicted the same on television
whereas the majority of music videos
are just the band playing their music

people sleep with both soldiers and musicians
for what they do
people say goodbye to their lovers
for months on end
when they leave for the sacrifice of either

war is the ultimate violent protest
music seems to be the ultimate non-violent protest

war and music have shared many beds
coins have been taken from the pockets of both
they both have their working class heroes

war tastes of caster oil shrapnel and young blood
music tastes of honey-sweet honesty and broken thresholds

the gun came first
it wasn’t until later that the guitar mocked it

in both war and music
there is a tumor of fidelity
when the cat is away
the mice will play
but in each
there are still men and women
and they usually speak the loudest

there are lots of folks
in both
that have become lost
Syd Barrett and Ernest Hemingway
we never find them
everyone knows that Paul is dead
but no one can find the body

music replaces the bullet hole left by war
war has been known to start with the rattle of a drum
either way
if you hear a rising sound of percussion
be ready

somedays
it feels like it’s easy to get them confused
siamese twins
but i always know
which one is which
when i remember
that one of them got the heart
and the other got the head

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012

READ “…SHE WALKS INTO MINE”

SOAP OPERA OF VAMPIRES

the viewing arenas are saturated with doe-eyed girls
lights go down
the bright white glitter skin of james dean emasculated
ooh the trembling knees of housewives in the crowd
lucky bland beautiful boring girl finds herself lost
in the bermuda love triangle with a bat and a dog
team? i am on no one’s team
burn the theaters down!
stab the actors with stakes! shoot em with silver bullets!

the vampires will seduce you with their lust
this way, darling
one small step at a time
you’re melting
and in the warmth of their cold embrace
they will drain your blood

the greatest fictional romance of my generation is between a teenaged girl and a vampire
what more proof do you need
that we are stuck
somewhere between
puberty and fantasy?

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012

FROM ENJOY YOUR POPCORN, OUT THIS NOVEMBER!

READ “NEWBORN”