abilene paradox…

how has time
changed
you
what dreams
have
you forgotten
or
abandoned
leaving
empty spaces
in
your heart
and
mind
seen by some
as
a far away look
or
just plain emptiness
that
you
cannot explain
to
those who ask
is there something wrong
a question
rarely answered
in
truth
just the typical offering
of
empty platitudes
things are fine
nothing to worry about
couldn’t be better
or
some other
verbal detour
from
the truth
served up with a practiced smile
but
closing your eyes
you can see
that empty space
but
you decide
to
move on
into
the new day
without
what’s been missing
for
so long

 

pronouncement of death…

gather up the clouds
so we may darken the sky
another soul’s died
no one ever known to you
just another nameless face
but i implore you
to offer a simple prayer
that those loved can heal

 

makeshift morgue…

though finely crafted
this chamber reeks of death’s stench
that of a nation
assassinated for greed
and political power

ain’t been a good year…

they’re taking my sister’s ashes
to the beach she always enjoyed
guess it beats being stuck inside
icu with all those damn tubes
but somehow
it’s hard to be consoled
there’s three of us left
the oldest and the youngest
and me
in the middle
the three of us
are feeling well for our age
but somehow
it’s hard to be consoled
we finally got some decent rain
and things are greening up
this was the year
she planned to visit
getting away from her city apartment
wanting to see
the famed california lifestyle
she would have enjoyed it here
all of the glitter and such
but somehow
it’s hard to be consoled
hospital did all that they could
and in fact
she had shown some real progress
but couldn’t breath on her own
the new president says
he’s really going to address
the pandemic
not like the last guy
but somehow
it’s hard to be consoled
did i mention
they’re taking my sister’s ashes
to the beach she always enjoyed

 

all the lonely people…

as if
things weren’t
bad enough
a pandemic
leaving
blank page
days
as
the daily fare
a forced diet
of
silence
it’s
not that
i
crave
wordy
desserts
piled high
with
nonsensical
phrases
of
sweet compliments
or
mundane platitudes
used
to
fill the empty void
of
uncomfortable social silence
no
what
i’m concerned about
are
the
mind locked people
sitting alone
well
stranded
at
home
with nothing more
than
netflix
or
appletv
as
their companion
as
entertaining
as
that may be
it isn’t
a substitute
for
feeling the pulse
of
another human
either
kinesthetically
or
metaphorically
through
their eyes
no
it’s
father mckenzie
writing words
of
a sermon
no one
will hear
nor
care
about
it’s
the sadness
of
forced solitude
where
even the start
of
the new day
offers
little
hope

 

pieces of property…

if you’re not born white
you’re forced into barracoons
until death’s ship sails