replicas…

wrapped in a comforter
of
memories
lying
in bed
head buried
in
pillows
of
what could have been
day passes
into
tomorrow’s night
when
nothing changes
outside
the world
ignores
all human tragedy
as if
watching
an old rerun
and
perhaps
that is the case
history
repeating
don quixotes
we all

 

nose wide open…

nose wide open

aunt bea
sitting
in
her parlor
was leafing
through
an old
photo album
she laughed
and
said
now
here’s
a picture of you
with your
first
true love
i wrote
a poem
about you and her
well
mostly
about you…

out to save her world
bumping into his own dreams
thoughtless half-ass schemes