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Temporary Hearts Time and again children's tears become stone—never glisten Hawks will fly through bright sunshine yet we are alone beyond measure So we grasp but cannot hold; another try and I turn cold Living with a temporary heart Servants and subjects, suicide pain; tears fall and dry again and again Deep in tolerance lay the heart of living a life always at start Gold will glow and songs will play and I will live another day So I wait but never see; another try—it escapes me Living with a temporary heart Unicorns fly on a Pegasus steed, marveling over the unspoken deed Graveyard pity and slavery's bonds cannot be dismissed by magic wands Water will flow, blood will drip; neither stronger than true friendship So we love and break apart; another brand new start Living with a temporary heart Heaven calls and Angels sing; they take me up on their radiant wings Silver songs that they play; I've failed to live another day I will look and I will see people I love mourning for me So they cry but soon forget; occupied time and no regrets We?fre only living with a temporary heart. Writer's Commentary for Temporary Hearts:
This one was written in a veterinary lab of all places if you can believe that. In my waning high school
years, I thought it would be both educational and entertaining to enroll in a veterinary care course after
school. I could earn big credits and get to play with animals at the same time—no brainer, I thought, I'll
breeze through this class.
Ha.
That was one of the hardest Goddamn things I've ever done in my life. If there are any veterinarians
reading this right now, I salute you and admire you, for I have tasted life in your shoes, and realize that the
field of Veterinary Medicine would carry on quite nicely—even better—without me, thank you very much.
I worked my ass off in that course both mentally and physically so when I did have the spare moment to
write, nothing particularly interesting ever seemed to emerge. This was one of the rare times that I was
able to generate something of value between rounds of cleaning up dog shit, hamster shit, ferret shit,
guinea pig shit, rabbit shit—I'll never be able to eat a bowl of Cocoa Puffs again—and chinchilla shit.
What the hell is a chinchilla anyway? I know they make coats out of them and such, but really—what the
hell is it and where does it come from? Has anyone ever seen a herd of wild chinchillas running amok?
Anyway, I digress.
At its heart, this work is about stoning your heart against feelings; about denying all the emotion that you
feel until it's too late. A warning if you will, about swallowing your emotions and the tragic
consequences of doing so. Don't be someone that lives with a temporary heart, only able to feel things in
fleeting slices.
As my good friend Madonna said, "Express Yourself." *
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