Oh Brother

i.  
It’s obvious: truth’s little fingers comb
the inner walls of her growing womb.
No use for secret.  Secret is a hypocrite.
It would rather dwell in the dark.
Secret transfigures into truth.
Truth desires to see light,
learn to walk on its two feet, learn to speak.
Don’t wait for truth to point it’s finger at you
and scream. Words are more painful than fists.
The universe conspires for a flourishing, healthy truth.
If you need to explain, explain it to the truth.
Make your explanations easier to swallow.
Roll and fry a meatball of a joke.  Truth might laugh.
Unplanned situations demand unplanned laughter.


ii.
Truth grew up, your spit and image.
His little sister blossomed - has your smile.
Burly as your dream, he’d search
The fats of your memory, bits of your love,
On toys that came in boxes.
She’d be bright as lanterns
Reed thin with delight
the gleam in her eyes gone.
They grew older than their ages
Permitting emptiness’ presence
In their lives, tired of asking questions
on Christmas, on birthdays,
because nobody answers,
nobody comes.


iii.
I'm telling it as it is. 
She pretended to be you behind the glowing screen.
I pretended to know her like I know my brother.
And when the words quivered, trembled
too much with the invisible, unsure electric
that brought the message over, I knew
some cords have already been cut, contracts
burned in the heat of the desert sun,
and the world you left to make better
completely gone.  You bit the apple
and you're not even in the garden,
the original trajectory of your life deserted
for the desert. And in her emptiness you found
the fruit tasted sweeter. 
And I comprehend the travails of a fellow weak creature.
And I'm telling it as it is.


iv.

We're all made evil by this act -
sins of anger, sins of avarice
your fruits bear heavily in their hearts,
sins of rumors, sins of lies
flying constantly in the emails, in our minds
haplessly snatching which words,
which stories are true anymore.
Now we all bit the apple from the tree
the lecherous snake coiling around our heads
its tail stretching further from your thumping fingers,
arcane Facebook accounts, sly messages
constant absences, delayed supports.
Look, there's a hole beneath our feet.
We're digging it from both ends of the world.
The devil is waiting with fiery hate
we can't help burning from the hearths of our hearts.