Pastiche, or the Difference Between Envy and Lust and Rhapsody

the poplar trees picketing Laurel Canyon provide no security

for those bordering their shoots and bark

fans of celebrity confuse the familiarity

and intimacy

of inviting this host or that guest into their home

for a weeknight conversation

one might miss the simple truth we are all just people

define your heroes and heroines

strip away the fame, the prestige and adoration

they are simply primates bustling through the forest of the city

getting by on scraps of work and pressures of expectation

you cannot relate to the stigma of relatable charisma

but you CAN learn

learn to be a loving human

build a castle to protect your friends, your shadows you seek

build a chasm of wealth and opportunity and be a genuine person

do not look to the screen for sex

do not look in your heart to set aside boundaries

do bring open your blood to boil with kindness

do see that idol with chrome, plastic eyes

as to not pierce your desire

as to not spark the fantasy

as to be honest

having a friend is the most important cookware for a long, happy life

try to imagine your deathbed

with no regrets

positive thought and zero "i wish i hadn't"

imagine a cloud of the closest people surrounding you

applauding and loving and crying for your interest and interaction

too much energy is wasted on that which is not reciprocal

too little breath and electricity is spent on the greatest form of cooperation

real synergy is intoxicating

actual love is euphoric

with a man or woman, child or adult, black or white,

anger evaporates in our last moments

shy the envy, slough off the lust. it is as false a high as a placebo.

even if it has an effect

it is not uplifting you

it is not enchantment

the rapture of what was

does not cool one degree

of exalting your heart

plant not a poplar

but a blade of grass

hold a fervor for true, blessed consideration