She stares at the
Shifting, fuzzy image
Of her husband and
Tells him all the
Mundane but grounding
News about what’s going
On at home, the children
Take turns saying hello,
Too young to realize
What’s really going on.
She asks once again
When he’ll be home and
Gets the same answer.
They sign off with a
Kiss, fingers on
The screen, bit players
In the latest conflict
Lining the pockets of
The usual opportunists.
I can’t say that
I ever thought he’d
Be the same as me
But I must admit that
I never considered
The possibility that
He felt nothing inside,
An animated creature
That behaves only
According to its latest
Whim, whatever it desires
At that particular moment,
With no regard for
Anyone who might be
In the vicinity.
An assemblage of
Caring individuals.
Moms, dads, children,
Brothers, sisters,
Grandmothers, grandfathers,
Aunts, uncles, cousins,
Friends, trades people,
Professors, teachers,
Business owners,
Students, factory workers,
Truckers, public employees,
Pilots, retail workers,
Writers, artists;
Representatives from
Every slice of life,
March down the street
Standing up for the vast
Majority of the citizenry,
An earnest call for greater
Equality, opportunity.
From windows above,
They nudge each other,
Laugh, and shout,
“Get a job!”
They no longer talk,
And he concocts
A story that makes
Him look like he
Has no part in the
Conflict when he,
In reality, bears
The brunt of all
His relationship
Failures, a reality
He can’t escape
No matter how hard
He tries.
He grew up on the
Side of town where
Crumbling dwellings
Were interspersed with
Warehouses and junkyards.
Walking in neighborhoods
Where orderly houses and
Manicured lawns gleamed,
He felt watched;
An object of suspicion.
Someone once alerted the
Police chief to his presence,
That he was surely up to no good.
He spent two days in jail,
Released without explanation.
It’s hard to describe
Why he’s so scary,
Something about the
Way he never smiles or
The dead certainty
Of his words,
All jagged lines,
Merciless,
As if nobody ever said
A kind word to him
When it would have
Made a difference.
A lovely family of
Birds arrives to
Enjoy the season.
Chattering cheerfully,
Snacking on blossoms,
Socializing enthusiastically,
Brimming with life.
Optimistic games played
Amidst the branches,
Passing days enjoyed
To their fullest.
Before long they leave,
The passing of time,
Fleeting, evanescent.
Don’t worry
About a thing.
We’ve got it
Under control.
No need to
Think about anything.
Sit down,
Relax.
Enjoy some numbing
Alcohol and amusements.
Everything’s
Fine.
If that doesn’t work,
We’ll impose martial law.
He doesn’t ask questions
Because he’s afraid
Of the answers he
Might hear.
This leaves only one option:
Talk all the time,
Fill up the space
With shallow blather.
At least this way,
He assures himself,
They won’t
Be on to him.
A superficial being
Desperately trying
To avoid
Looking at itself.
