you know them the ones walking on the edge of existence with lives emptied of hope and purpose going through survival rituals perpetuating the meaningless ignored by those who should care those good christian souls who for some reason are unable to see them and extend a helping hand christians no doubt baptized in dirty bath water
slow shadow dancing the streets of rio where promises have died and dreams are just graffiti scrolled across a church wall a heart’s sadness plays from a mandolin while a guitar offers chords of hope both know the tune all too well how love fades and lovers lose what love they had all that is left is slow shadow dancing
first of all
i should note
that
the cat
never seemed
to
trust me
so
when i would bring
my old friend home
from
a concert
for
he could
no longer drive
at night
i couldn’t help
but
note
that
as i helped my friend
to the door
i could see
eyes peering
at me
from the darkness
it was
the cat
and
the cat
would only enter
the doorway
after i
had left
the immediate area
now
i’m not a believer
in souls
and
such
but
i must admit
the cat
seemed to be
linked to
the old man’s soul
and
as evidence
one night
the cat did not
appear
days went by
and
still no cat
neighbors searched
as
did i
but still
no cat
i presume
the coyotes
finally got
the cat
a natural process
but
none the less
sad
oh
now for the evidence
without the cat
the old man
seemed to quickly fade
becoming more
dependent
upon others
as if
he’d lost
one
of his lives
the cat
never
appeared
and
the old man
disappeared
into
heaven’s ether
i
presume
uac crossing the border are apprehended by dhs’s cbp cbp and ice detain uac routinely for longer than six months then cbp transfers uac to hhs’s orr orr operates icfs to house the uac and if by now you’re saying omg this all seems like tfh shouldn’t we be irl talking about the almost 7 thousand children separated from their parents at the border then ygtp
rarely invited though he’s neatly dressed small sweater holes apparent fame for him has been a shell game his life’s work and gifts to others have been overlooked hidden behind a wall of prejudice
when all your dreams have vanished in the night how will you wake from the deep sleep of your despair will you offer up a prayer as morning doves warn you of the coming of the new day or will you merely melt into edges of your fears never to rise again
tell me no more stories of war i don’t want to hear about acts of valor on the battlefield or families left behind orphaned by political and corporate greed no don’t tell me another story until you can raise the dead