The Living Dead

Now-a-days,
the ways of relationships seem to
drip
plastic. Perfect
kenandbarbie faces reflect
but
eject
the notion of love. Of
this I think when
sitting, with drink,
glancing over my pre-nup.

Have paper and pens,
held by aloof hands attached
to business suits
replaced
hands on hands
and the hearts wild dances
and thoes lances of laughter?

Is this the age the absolute
takes root?
Calmly gives our souls the boot?
Or maybe this point is mute.

When you read this, or
hear this, ignore this, or
fear this, write dear, Mr. Girardot this--
throw your hands up and sneer at this
or just steer clear of this...

id hope at least
you kiss your significant other goodnight.


Chris Girardot
11/15/05