I’m not sure
There was ever a time
When idyllic meadows
Felt familiar.
Subsisting in twilight,
Inches from darkness.
An indistinct form beckons,
Sometimes less aggressive,
Always debilitating.
Moving toward it,
Struggling to remember
Who I am.
She’s not
Like everyone else.
She has courage
And insight.
She creates worlds
No one else has.
She doesn’t follow
Trends or fads.
She listens to
Her own voice.
So, I finally got
My washboard abs,
My fancy clothes,
My flashy jewelry,
My exotic car,
My huge house,
My trophy wife,
My now what.
All at once,
Each thought
More intrusive than the last,
Vying for attention,
Demanding flashing signs.
In the turbulence,
A small voice beckoning,
Comfort and solace,
Purpose.
Blissfully easy,
Categorizing a
Human being as
Defective, lazy,
Unworthy of care,
Compassion.
Cruel exercise,
Rendering a person
Featureless,
Expendable,
Trash decomposing
In a gutter.
Crucial shift
From apathy, scorn,
To compassion,
Understanding
That is all of us
But for chance.
A group of men converge, a raucous
Interplay of competing smiles and
Fables. Towels snapping, quips
Flying, one-upmanship obligatory,
Manic talking, absent listening,
The rustling of business cards being
Exchanged on the fly with
Assurances earnestly attached.
I’ll call you soon, we ought to get
Together for lunch, I like what you’re
Doing, that’s interesting. The phone
Lays silent at his side, unringing,
Unblinking. Useless. A sour
Reminder of broken promises,
Confidences offered in jest. Lack of
Depth, sincerity, meaning.
It doesn’t go as expected,
Not that he had grand ideas
About how things would
Turn out, but it could
Definitely have gone
Better, now dealing with
A disconcerting sense of what
Might have been rather than
What actually resulted and
Must now be assimilated,
There being no other choice.
The birds see me
Looking at them
From inside the house.
They don’t know what
I’m thinking,
Or maybe they do.
Her fate was decided behind
Closed doors. After some time,
They emerged from the chamber,
Delivered her sentence, a
Ruthless slap in the face
Administered by pusillanimous
Minions immune to truth.
A gaggle of feeble followers
Reinforcing each other’s
Frailties, susceptible to
Manipulation, incitement, the
Sustenance of the prostrate.
