A poem
Silence!
I don’t know
what to create!
A corporate wink.
Values reevaluated.
Scold on a screen.
“Smile!”
Surplus views —
but a deficit of the new.
Deficient swarms
of moralizing clues.
Still slewing
but in complete
silence.
I don’t speak
so we
can think.
Silence:
I don’t know
what to…
a poem
a yellow bag
for a food bank
floating empty
through the air
the beauty bestowed
vanishing into thick air
thinning
melting
confidence hits
with anonymity
rumbling
rubber control
evading bumps
with precision
automatic
unthinking
the terrain of the future
feels trampled upon
drifting into it
but my breeze
precedes me
A riddle
Concerned with
what they
do.
Not whether or
not they’re
true.
a poem
a language pregnant
with propaganda
needs to be
nourished
lavish and delicious
on the lips
blood, beauty,
curdled
the past
not yet past is
rumoured to be
aborted
happily haunted
hanging
on the uterine wall
eternal
in the aftermath
a body impregnated
a mind indifferent
in denial
A poem
Through a window
private property
peers back
and peers
got my back.
With tear-soaked tissues
salty drops are
wiped off a desk.
An intellectual killer
played on
a playground
trying to build something
he wrecked.
