Drunken Singularity

Drifting up the street then down these all too

familiar steps, but still bound by the bowels.

There is no beat to this century, no

post-modern fragmented plurality, no

logic, nor even justification.

There is only a beat to this heart, and

it has no rhythm.

A Sudden Nothing

My heart is beating a little faster

After listening to the night

Then hearing gunshots

It comes every now and then

But I never really notice

I wonder if those bullets

Made their mark

But most likely bouncing off alley walls

Never mind now I hear the sirens

That could only mean one thing

And it’s only midnight

At least the police responded

Ashamed it gave me such a rush

And that now I’m not despondent

Since something happened

Someone is dead or dying

The sirens are still blaring

No one has a seatbelt to fasten

And now it is silent again

Lead pulverizing flesh

Men finding quicker ends