From Golden to Broken

The projects are there…

everything is drenched in poverty.

Lady in black,

how do I know you?

Unless I take another wrong turn,

I will never find you again.

I’m lost down the longer path.

My words will wither in your wrath…

unmarked vehicles tailing the human face-

in metal chalk outlines.

Keep up the pace,

or get left behind,

What I think about the most-

victims of landmines.

Hold me close to your unapologetic ghost.

The proverbial, lustrous cutlery

smacks me when I think or create.

Amber waves infected by chemical rain,

please deprive me of America.

Occupy Nothing

Occupy Nothing

We got drunk with homeless people

in tents outside city hall

in the frigid air last fall.

The movement fell apart,

and the city would rather tear up the pavement

around the half-abandoned administrative center

for an indefinite amount of time

than have the wrong people transparently living

out there in the middle of the city

for everyone to see.

At least now the vagrants and troublemakers are scattered

about so no one can pay attention once again.

Someone got shot there during fourth of July;

thousands of people were herded through the gates of hell,

“to celebrate fascism” as a nice old man commented to me

as I walked by, I didn’t know what to respond.

We left as soon as we got there because it was beyond suffocating.

There is a lack of understanding in everyone, and it is exhausting not being naive.

Philadelphia will remain static on the outside.

Caffeine

the distance between here and now is filtered through the sunlight in your eyes

where i can’t tell what is being looked at but i hope it is that one particular detail

saturn’s rings are melting away, dripping out of the sky and forming new visions

my emotions waver, but not as much as yours, you need to sleep, but you can’t

the aches are starting to diminish and those recurring thoughts are erupting now

hatred for that never-ending feeling is as much as the fear for the finishing

being redundant is a common occurrence for us, why should anything be recorded?