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The dream is still,
but the child is falling
and slowly dying
of sea cancer.
The Black man is
wearing a red suit,
his orange hat
is laughing at an
opiate youth.
The night has passed,
and the brilliant brains
are sorrowful …
the morning is the grinning gallows of happiness.
The middle-aged woman
is donating blood
to revive another shopping mall,
so we can buy routine’s sexual stimulants.
The old man
reads today’s newspaper
only to discover it’s
also yesterday’s news
telling us it’s another morning
where saints die alone.
Posted 01/27/15
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