from the window an old pokey pickup truck…

i’ve spent
quite a few
sleepless nights
during
this
quarantine period
trying
to
measure aspects
of
my life
and
wondering
how others
could have
just
now
begun
to
appreciate
the struggles confronting
those
all around them
since
aunt bea
has lived
through
so much
i thought
i’d give her
call
and
asked
her opinion
aunt bea
said
the pace
of
our daily routines
blurs
our views
of
of life’s journey
keeping
what we’ve seen
or
what
we could have seen
out of focus
perhaps
the pandemic has
forced us
to
slow down
and
see
what’s been
right
in front of us
the whole time
we just
needed
to slow down
a bit
to feel
the pain
of
others

 

random acts of violence…

simulated waves
of
empathy
wash over
the bodies
in
the street
bodies
wearing
corporate logo t-shirts
corpses
photographed
like
selfies
on
iphones
and
posted on facebook
for
likes
by
social mercenaries
dreaming

of
corporate sponsorship
while

police
with
city seal embossed
face masks
employ
non lethal rubber coated
lead bullets
into
the eyes
of
reporters
and
into
the skulls
of
vietnam vets
those
old men
on
their way
to fill prescriptions
for
heart meds
a
med
not need
for
those without
a
heart