Into the gray of my mornings
Or the blues of every night
Is it that my nails
keep breaking
Or maybe the corn
on my secind little piggy
Things keep popping out
on my face or of my life
It seems no matter how
I try I become more difficult
to hold
I am not an easy woman
to want
They have asked
the psychiatrists . . . psychologists . . .
politicians and social workers
What this decade will be
known for
There is no doubt . . . it is
loneliness
Not at all right,
All of them,
Chaotic bummers,
Don’t even know,
How to govern!
The ones that were,
The ones that are,
21st Century plight,
Nothing feels right!
Confused, hidden
By computerized trees,
Now, the forest,
Nobody sees,
So much information,
So much untrue,
‘Sanctified’ by abuse
Nobody, even seems
To care about the truth,
Cynicisms, absolute tooth,
Muddled in darkness,
Transparency, none,
They haven’t even left us,
A tenuous ray of sun.