Well, Fuck - 03/12/12

So it is that under March snow,

over thick puddles in potholes,
under dripping street signs,
over sticky tiles,
under encroaching gloom
over the first sunny day in just
over a month -
 
so it is in math class
that joking comments on
torn flesh
find ringing laughter
and applause -
 
so it is with veil
of clouds,
of long hair,
of minimal sleep,
of skipped meals,
of dark thoughts -
 
so it is masked
behind vacant eyes,
behind pursed lips,
behind crimson cheeks,
behind monotones,
behind pencils
and papers
and poems -
 
so it is in love,
in giddy feelings crushed
by annoyed realities,
in hopeful flying
proving only falling
without style,
in over affection
peeling back only
cruel intentions,
in selfish
whorish doubt -
 
so it is beside generosity,
next to welcoming,
beside compliment,
holding hands with kindness -
 
so it is only Monday
and the week is off
to such a fantastic start
I think I'll slit my throat
to celebrate.