Poems (the first of several installments)

One at a time, I'm posting these. Then I'll archive them into a separate area.
this is from 2003.

if you’re looking

check yourself first if
you’re looking for sense
in the city today, always
down the wrong avenue
or via some flawful ex-
press stratagem. where
is it or has it gone?

it’s moping and bored on a
windowsill, potentially.

it’s in every properly running
fridge and faucet, rumored
and pending substantiation.

it’s somewhere spayed
and then neutered and
suited up fancy, it
might be suggested.

it’s in a yesterday
cup of residue, cold and
colder just the same,
dreaming of spring,
somebody is certain.

it may or might be where
inert emotion’s settled
with the silt and the spit in a
disuseful subway station,
scary and sustaining
the roaches and the rats.

is it in a fleeting equity
that kisses each
creature with a last
heavy blink until
each tomorrow? it’s
possible. nothing is
not. nothing suffers
only to be seen so doing.

1 comment:

  1. wow ! ... i know I talked to you about your writing when i first moved to b.wick, but you were reticent (aka "I don't really read my stuff out loud") at the thought of having a writer's circle or something of the sort ... thank you for putting it out here ! I really appreciate the last line. I had to reread the whole last bit a few times . grateful for your voice