Monday, September 21, 2015

torn

It's a big J-shaped offset bordering the pale cement
Naturally patchwork grass, the interior, cross lines
An embroidered quilt, freshly pin-flagged down
Circular dissections of aged trees, which
Just can't outnumber concrete buildings
Yellow, green, red, indigo, splattered on a grey palette
Rolling winds fall
From over the rooftops and
Howling through the sparse greenery

Behind, football teams break in the newly sod fields
Frisbee players meet closely on the side, complaining about football
Big universities are brimming with bright-eyed young students and wily old professors, trying to get laid
Well-groomed, fit men escorting smooth, curvy women, practicing their games
while this hack-ing -
cough and
rot-gut hangover's
freakin' killin' me

Throat's dry and scratched,
Wince and recoil-
Too bright, clear sky
Hands weakly shaking, probably, lack of booze, food or sleep, whatever
Stomach's getting the pinch;
A tentacle squeezed tight around an empty, rumpled bag, torn and neglected

Giant specters loom over the city, silhouetted by clear sky and clouds
They watch the park, piling concrete and steel and reflective glass panes
Behind the ring of trees, that surrounds the scene
Growing man higher and faster than nature
A greenhouse cultivating food or medicine, gifts or experiments
These mechanical mammoths balance in the middle to shrink or evolve

Three men pushing a shopping cart filled with clothes and cans stop at the bleachers in a warm, sunny spot this afternoon to have a few smokes
The man in the dark blue, 80s windbreaker stretches out to nap for a bit
The other two converse quietly
One puts on his tan fishing hat and black back pack

Exiting at the other end of the park

Thursday, September 3, 2015

landfill

The heart is a landfill
Littered with the decaying revenge
Of inadequate reflections
Projected across everything that's seen
Choking on the scar tissue of
Recycled meaning that was never bothered
To be understood in the first place
Waste that was not meant for anyone
Yet was bathed in until it was forgotten
Where it was, or is going to
Choose whatever is wanted
But know that there can be better
Than this garbage that has been created

For nobody