Our Future as Unromantic Tramping

Communication sent between colors

has no meaning. Meanwhile, you yearn

for purpose amidst plaster safe-havens.

The children fall asleep in city streets

and dream green and brown covered

in red and blue, anxious for the day

that all they have to worry for is starvation.

Which will be the first for your sepulcher?

Exposure or drugs or any other unclean

invader of your sterility? And yet you crave

the sick man sitting only two amputated feet

away, smiling around others also in pain,

knowing running in the light is more tedious

than nothingness. Yearning for that instant

of beautiful survival.

American History

on machine time

sans centuries of self

destruction circuits designed

upkeep a river named

after a professional murderer

this is the saga of a Dutchman

who slaughtered

for sport

and even

the people he killed

are now only known

through him

Poem

Music was invented here

in this state of mind sitting

in a building’s existence,

or rather our means of listening.

Across the Delaware River

an 80 foot tall American flag

rests stuck on red brick

painted broken history.

The crumbling structures

on water’s both sides

associate anything;

warfare and European men.

A pale blue bridge still stands

and this amber beer still tastes

stale and my heart still palpitates.

I’m alive.

feet away from eternity

you, man holding cellular phone-computer,

man who smells like burnt tires thrown

into a swamp, you, man with fake African bracelets

made of wood around flaky pale skin, you, man soaked

in dirty rain, man with head down hand scratching red

neck bumps, man who stares into blank screen

with yellow knees bent and ruptured veins in arms,

you are the furthest you’ll ever be from life

Said and Done Before

salt smells and faded baseball cap

like whiskey by the water

loose blue t-shirt and cutoff jean shorts

and torn up boating shoes no socks

too much hair and skin for one human

no technology thank god

just a newspaper clipping all crumpled

and gray the lights at the 24 hour pharmacy

are intangible

walk with me thru the aisles because

everything is bright and melting cancer

love comes from out west

even though we’ve never been

from Los Angeles on out

all there is are signals signals signals

we’re trapped

in discarded images