each day/month/year builds to a question
the response known before the query
again & again
disbelief is futile
on rehabilitation
you wait & … wait—
*
at some point repetition sets in:
boiled egg, farina, white bread, bland coffee
for breakfast reminders
of what you have become {#289-128}
a nonbeing from which
escape or release is a fairytale.
*
the rec yard never alters its landscape:
dirt track, hoops, weight pit, fisticuffs—
*
the changing same … ?
: SORRY THIS NOT THAT POEM
raised block flower & plant bed.
peonies, gardenias, poinsettias
plus a yellow orb slow rising
over an endless golden scape—
darting through uncluttered space
cardinals, thrashers, sparrows
blue air fragrant with lavender
washing brain matter into virtue.
if only i could pastel alphabets
onto a canvas of thistledown
yes, deceit comes to mind—
.a lie. traitor. turncoat. recreant
backstabber here i would be
gut shanked a million times.
this is not that poem nor am i
that poet to hold your hand
.or. erase knothole screams
blood on a cement floor .or.
suicide is another form of escape
no-no-no—yes-i-do promise
the evil-ugly humans inflict
on each other to their [selves]
how time is malice is death
inflaming pupils with spite
inextinguishable if set free—
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