Saturday, April 11, 2020

the fragile secret man





the fork is sticking out of the glass
and I feel tossed
I glow sometimes 
and fold into tears other times

in cars
shattered and fragile permutations of desires
drive around on night streets reflecting 
nothing important
it didn't hit nothing important &
the dead society of screens
in red and green and yellow
is like
sadness embraced by rain
and it all 
just passes away

and the old man's body slowly envelops me
memories of promise
piano notes and water
dreams that don't matter now
love that will never be

soreness and trouble getting up
this is just the diamond path
I am told
nothing any doctor can heal
until the sand piles up
and the ashes are mailed
and the self is revealed
as the endless empty room
of it all




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