Pew People

The sphere of reason
is out in space somewhere
spun off its axis.
We do not approach it.

Guts. Guts and a disconnect.
Fear recruits.
Glares sharp as steeples.

They are terrified of matches.
We choose the plastic green flashlight.
Prayers swarm down
an orange vine,
Clenching onto uncertain
little stems of story.

Sometimes lying is the kindest
thing you can do.
Sometimes gray is gold.

Death, a relief.
The madness calms,
A rest from the exhaust.

Be kind and lie-
save them the lunatic worry,
the uncomfortable sorry.

Kids: Do not bleach their brains.
They deserve a little mud,
earthy honesty,
Let the worms eat,
the fruit decompose,
the flowers grow.