Fools (Revised) – Justin Million – April 1

Synapse Writer-in-Residence #NPM16

Fools

Send only tablets of peace
to my love.

Fools shredded my debt docs
the last eight
months, out-of-nowhere I am
fortune’s fine blade, and I’m ready,
the mossy mountain outstretching sky-

After 15 years I am finally ready
to laugh off whatever age
Geneva finds

(for proof of hope, we can nail-gun this one to future’s face).

We’ve won a new apartment.
My boss has lots of money. OK?
Mine more than yours,
future’s paperwork

a shit fad trap
rapper, a too long in the sun
joke. It’s all about choosing
the correct now.

Impossible to lose her in the light
I invent myself, a little dark mixed in, black keys for good measure,
send her my best dark,
my clear trash bag of who I was then,

our years picking up, being
compacted to a rent-paid snuggle.

We’ll waste time watching Full House, no tricks;

I am not climbing a mountain, or plucking
predictions from
the zeitgeist,

it’s a clear day
where a fool has a clean shot

behind the bullet;
two shots:

we’ve bagged us an us,
babe.

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