January 2009
6 posts
1 tag
I'm the Juggernaut, Morning Shuffle, Morning Paper
“I’m the Juggernaut”
The mighty Human Juggernaut:
The exile mutant menace got
his powers from the mystic gem
of Cyttorak to wreak mayhem.
“Dawn Shuffle”
A shuffle past the plastic fawn
to nab the paper from the lawn.
He likes to come at crack of dawn
before the night is fully gone.
“Morning Paper”
Doom and gloom from morning papers
hung on vending racks on city sidewalks.
Read and...
1 tag
Limelight
He likes to sit in the station
alone to watch the halogen
limelight bounce off their
faces, real and bare,
sweating care
and passion.
Watching reality relieves
him, with these pick-pocketing thieves,
cold crying children
and milling drunken
homeless men,
he unweaves.
1 tag
Sea-foam
He thinks from here it’s all
a small
escape. He feeds the dull
white gull
who caws a sharp “shalom,”
goes home
somewhere across sea-foam.
Feeding time’s over now,
he looks out from the bow:
A small white gull goes home.
1 tag
Symptoms of a Location
I wonder if you tire
of the smell and grime of feet,
of drive-by profanity
and bad parallel parkers.
“Symptoms of location,” I think you’d say,
“but I see such pretty people along the way.”
1 tag
Leafless Limbs
In the driver’s seat of a four-door car
he groans or sighs or murmers or
whatever it is lost souls do
when they look out of windows to barren trees.
Winter trees do not remind him of death.
No, he sees in their leafless limbs
her arms grasping at morning air—
inviting the day to embrace her, bare.
1 tag
Postage Stamps
Her hands are cold and foreign.
She tells him it is nothing to
write home about; postage stamps are
too pricey these days anyway.
Two worlds divide; unseen distance.
He knows now - all things fall apart.