-mommy, why do actors die in movies?

-mommy, why can't we get a dog?

-mommy, why don't we go to church?

-mommy, where is daddy?

 

put a filter on it, kid-

don't you ever think before you speak?

offsetting guilt with off kilter remarks.

hold it tightly tilted at the guilded hilt.

 

severed and stilted and ever sarcastic,

the realtor of reality has been waiting 

public static final to sell you your plastic.

 

so you exchange the plastic for some

copper, zinc, nickel, and some good 

old

fashioned

blood

 

and you plastered the plastic to your platinum 

platitudes

platitude

after

platitude

after 

platitude

platitude hiding platitude

platitude effacing sincerity

platitude masking an utter and desperate and ultimately sad

je ne sais quoi

non

je ne sais qui.

 

I don't know who I am,

says the pretentious WASP existentialist

in French,

the language of his soul. 

 

I don't know who I am.

but that's ok.

 

put a filter on it, kid.

that's what it's for. 

homogenize,

(whats the con in conforming?)

and you need not worry about rotting and curdling away,

left behind,

in the time capsule incubator of 

Death.