The Pursuit

Chasing all treasures

Elusive riches

that you can’t hold on to

No one told you

there’s only what you can carry

in a box

or between your ears

 

Waxing gibbous

Photocells give up the ghost

Lamps blink and die

to the consternation of bats

In the half light

Waxing gibbous

Rays of light endure in captivity

of broken glass

Winking in your headlights

the detritus of some other species

We traipse their wake

never to meet head on

Twice daily intersecting

in the half light

waxing gibbous

 

Flood Stage

She is a taker

She is a giver

When her floodgates break

What sails the river

On the high ground

we watch from the banks

Make not a sound

as we offer our thanks

for rainsuits and sandbags

And seek forgiveness

for all our mistakes

We’ll still retreat

when that old levee breaks

What is washed away

returns with time

Like the criminal’s visit

to the scene of the crime

The Carnival

Static lives in anticipation

End of term in view

Warm, though not yet summer

In a wet, green world

Shorts extracted

from wardrobes dormant

for alabaster legs

Wholly unprepared

A celebration of sirens

and batons

Clubs of the state

with happy faces painted on

What sick fantasies we have seeded

Silly young girls

indiscreetly confess desires

She always wanted to make out

in the back of a cruiser

There are more tender offerings

sacrificed at this altar

 

The Young Lords of the New Machine

Who are your machine overlords?

Sinister masterminds

Loathsome ego

They wear no black hats

No gruesome warpaint

They came as heroes

In skinny jeans and Skechers

Fresh faced, unsuspecting

Young Lords of the New Machine

but they have succumbed to vampires

They are planet Renfield

until they too will walk the Earth

as the Undead

Small victories

Made the passage

Without my glasses

What is seen and isnt there

Colors and large shapes

Leave clear impressions

They remain trapped

In recollections

The details filled in

Deftly embellished

Minor chords

Of the days that we relished

Thought we’d arrived

When only passing through

Maybe left something

To improve the view

Most times we were shadows

Slipping by the sun

No time for celebration

For small victories that were won