raises the gun to his head:
‘God forgive me for what i do…’
a cut off notice from the electric company,
unopened on the table,
an eviction notice hanging
on the door…
his son’s phone number by the phone,
but the phone, like him,
is dead!
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nothing lives here anymore.
and the bar on the corner is gone.the sidewalks swept and empty,windows covered with dust.would be lovers ride by radios blaring,cell phones grafted to their ears.no one makes love anymore,masturbation detoxification.crows hanging on the brick walls,apartment doors bolted and locked.caught a meth lab in the church basement,and they’ve cut down all the trees.no one jumps…
we are the children
we are the names and the facesof the spirits that roam the night.we are the leaves that fellwith autumnal passion…we crumbled back into the dirt,and returned to our mother.we are the oaks cutto build the house.we are the saws, the hammers,and the nails.we are the water,and we are the well.we are the cup and the…
joy, peace, stillness,
seems like it shouldnt be so hard,what else is there that matters?we keep looking the wrong way,keep turning our backs on the truth.forgetting where we came from,with no idea where we’re going!life runs like sand through our fingers.we race madly towards the flame.are we moths, would be gods,or just small children,who’ve lost our mother?
lover, come to me!
the sound, and the fury.the small patches of fur,left in the ditch.the stained sheet,the crack in the window.i am the barking of dogs,the song of cicadas…i am the broken plow,the hammer laid aside.the bucket full of rainwater,the tree bent by the storm.i am the bodies of the innocents,the nightmares of the guilty…the stink of blooddried…
the old man puttered around his bushes…
since his wife had died, it seemed like everythingwas suspended. just him and the dog now, andthe dog was old and blind.Maria watched him. everyday the same thing, inhis yard, or walking his dog. she thought to herself,‘that’s just sadness walking…’Maria was 28, never married, kinda plain, but clean.her boy Tyler was seven, a boy’s…
the human mind
it has to be plowed,planted and weeded..it needs sunlight and rain.if the gardener is attentive,the crop will be good.if we let it lay untended,it becomes a field of death!the crop that we raiseis the food of the future…plowed, planted, and weeded!