I cannot see you, smell you Or feel you Yet I know that you are there Hanging like thick pollen After the first breath of warmth On an early spring morning Silently stalking As a thief in the night Omnipresent as the fear Of humankind It is early still The sun is barely over the horizon The time of day, though, matters not This death keeps no clock It grows and adapts Dispassionately Like some kind of AI Then entering, it asks me a question Will you adapt and survive?
A rosebud on my mindThe empty snow globe quakesMe back to future’s pastWhere the core of thought shakesThe bloodied red tide looseFrom the ocean that achesFor a cleansing of poresAnd the purging of snakes … Read more. Order today at Amazon and help support independent …
The curve of the wave clutches my soul
Barreling down a moonless black hole
Then, as if desperate to console
The surf relents, in a quiet roll
Back out to sea, yet angry to return
I know surely, for whom the bells toll
“Fuck it, I’m done with you.”
Flew out of her mouth
Like a bird finally escaping
A long-caged existence
And I, dropping my head
Did my best invisible man
Pretending not to notice
The tear streaming down her face
As I hurried by
Out of the office building
And into the cold stillness
Permeating through hurried souls
Scattering as ants
With a purpose
A rescue squad tripped the lights
Screaming on its somber way
In a rush to save someone
At the meeting place
Of answered and unanswered prayers
Pensive people waiting
For news from the front lines
White’s pureness
Meets red’s murky afflictions
In medicine’s arena
Stats, meds and tears
Collide on the merry-go-round
Of mortality’s doorstep
Hoping the door remains closed
A homeless man
Simply working his median strip
Collecting funds for life
Or rather a simple pleasure
To forget about life
At least, just for a while
Now harassed by the cops again
There can be no such display
Creating discomfort
For capitalism’s commuters
So off to a jail cell he goes
While his sign screams in vain
“Homeless vet, needs work.”
A message lost in traffic
On the home stretch
An old woman pushed along
One wheelchair wheel bent
As if to agree with her
That something’s not right
When he is gone
And she remains
Stoic and lonely against time
As children play
The carefree laughter
Echo’s to the heavens
Her hand stretches out
Touching the breeze
Hoping to feel once more his warmth
And I, like a stranger
In my own country
Step in through the door
As a lonely traveler
Entering a bustling hotel lobby
Weary from the day’s loathsome tribulations
Skeptically eyeing those that seem so at home
Comfortable yet aloof
And I close my eyes and pray
For some magic glue
That could put back together
The broken pieces of everyday life