I Was Ready to Embrace This Globe

I was ready to embrace this globe And spill out like the waters of spring. But I'm afraid a fire will break out That has been burning for years on end. Bright yellow glows the steel In the furious mouth of the inner blast furnace. Red clay, a veil laid on top, So the buzzing hosts won't know — The ever-weeping, "eternal" people Hiding their noses in anthills. In every burrow a hero-hypocrite. And cigarettes stick out of the windows. Along with thoughts, a trickle of smoke Through the mouth, past the eyes and up to the sky. By day with eyes shut, at night we don't sleep, Tirelessly juggling anger At each other, in the fight for comfort, We burn our days in the fire of the daily grind. One friend's a cabbie now, a girlfriend's in escort. Rumors spread very fast. My furnace knows no rest. A personal Auschwitz from the noise outside. Like an execution, but the round's a blank. Searching for a way out, like in The Truman Show. This globe is not ready for me. Or I for it — who knows. Answer me, O God of all gods, Did you not err in the place you chose? If so — throw in a little strength to your lost prodigal son. Bowing low to the floor for the heavenly blue. I'll remember until I go cold.