...Planet 8...

Tethered
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BS,RN
August 14th, 2006

Hitch up your pants, draw together the snap, pull up your fly, and eradicate
The lost village, seeking refuge inside that mind of endless "dream," you encourage
Children to flock about your grassy shrine, (a lawn), and visit your childhood
They take the treats and run away; if you open your bank account they will count
Out your dollar bills, not buy penny candy (as you did in your day,) but call the
Crack dealer (cell phone), the technology of emotions is alive, dwelling deep
In your male instinct--"how could it be" (how could it not), and the bee hive is

Swarming with cross fire, the poison stingers emerge
Biting without vindication, you have entered their home
Threatened them with your live status, your human
Conscience, and whatever dreams die, pegged down like

The circus tent you live in; the formal surroundings, neat--clean, organized do
Not tell the honest truth--confusion abounds in your head, up and down that
Seesaw flies, and you are pounced off the high end, and topple, fall with a slam
Knocking the breath out of you, eyes water (men don't cry) and you wipe them
Dry--she left because there was another man (or two) and her pre menopausal image
Scares her scarred mirror, relieves her anxiety to believe the lie, in another

Not YOU, for you are history relived and proudly you
Walk with firm steps, pre-honest thoughts leading to
"Sometimes honest" actions, even though the children
Surround you seeking someone you are not, you give in...

Candy cane toilet bowl, filled to the brim, this crack house is empty, and your
First try laid you down for a night--"did you fuck your brains out" and feeling
For that limp member between your legs you think "no I would recall" and a
Desolation strikes your heart, the pain in a chest of anxiety reigning terror
Reminds you that this drug is addictive, and you must fight to the end and take
Your bowl of fake cherries, off the clear glass coffee table, mend that shirt

Take the dog for a walk, forget that this West Texas
DESERT plain is less than enticing, that culture exists
Some 2,000 miles away, and the life chosen was only a
Gamble, a day at a time, and you stop DEAD, cry broken tears

Defend, the bitter end, join hands with the children, "ring around the rosey"
WE ALL FALL DOWN, "I" has died, your two ton testicles drop a notch, and
The mirror counts your years one by one until they are journeled, expressed
You are the beautiful man hiding behind the youth of the 70's, the artic chill
Is climbing up your right leg, and FROZEN in today is your destiny, lace upon
Your cheek, her breasts touch you there, and forever you want more, endless pain

"I love you" she says
(What does she really mean)
"Honey I do..."
Give in, this man is on Planet 8...