Wednesday, January 21, 2015


On my lunch break
I hear the ughs and
groans of those  I'll say
are worse off than me,
& those I'll say are better,
scurrying to fill that lost
tiny hour of the day
all suffering like me
suffering that pearly idea
suffering for independence
gained through slavery,

I think like, what's the difference

Why would you want it on
those green slips of sludge
rot in yer gut printed on the
carcasses of our beautiful world

Didn't Jesus overturn
the tables at the temple
of your mind body soul
for a reason? Didn't he
carry the sword to his

Buddha, know, gave up his belongings willingly

BUDDHA BLESS on the gold coin

I catch the multitude of car in
the swelling cavities of my yearning,
black window, cold windows
got going somewhere

pass that nameless man on the street
I've seen him everyday for two years,
says, god bless, even when you offer nothin'
not even a nod, goes on mumbling,
bent over walker now,
body's crumbling onto street,
just two too quick years,
leaning like broken branch now,
and the street, paved in gold
under all these bodies
goes on thinking nothing,
silent prayer to the lord on high,
skyscraper heavens,


I see the faces,
I don't see.

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