White

We crashed through crazed glass in the white-hot burst of

the fiery blast. We flared through choked air, in the

deafening blare, in the scattering ash. We said, "Summer's

here and I'm gonna crack crack crack." We sort through

shocked quartz like a jewelry store -- while your sister and

dad consort with kept courtesans, while the whole world

sits in ruins. We laugh, "Summer's here and I'm gonna

crack! Summer's here and I'm near a heart attack or flash

of real feeling, teeth gnashing, and blasting and reeling

through black."

Because, kids, when I first saw your mom, I was right and

she was wrong about just the type of man she was bringing

back. And when I first met her dad, I felt good and he felt

bad. But, kids, you'll find that, over time, you're just

trapped. And Spring is gone and you're gonna gasp. And,

friends, when I saw the groom rise from the

darkness of the tomb, I was unnerved (though, overall, I

was wowed.) And when I saw the bride, the look inside her

eyes just cried, "If someone has some cause to stop, say it

now!" But now Fall is here, and the leaves all come down.

And then Winter's here, and it's too cold to drown. And

I'm nearly whited-out, snowblind, like it's no business of

mine if life doesn't want me around.