At Second Glance

What I've seen has left me Scarred like a plowed November field Scared, as child facing abandonment Man forced to imagine not being Able to feed, or lead his family Into the hope of dreams, idle, foreign Set to recede with sunrise and the 9-5 I tread the night, undead, and silent Looking for things that bump back Hands thrust-ed down -- cigarette Signaling naught, but my curiosity: Is a thousand sun starved prisoners A million blasted sand granules A 100 broken hearted teenagers One cracked moon flailing into Ocean Driven by escape and unrealistic plans I forge lists that read: 1. Fix truck's tires and air conditioning 2. Get a job 3. Appreciate what you have more, and what you Want less 4. Vacation, vacation, vacation 5. Insurance, insurance, insurance 6. Don't self destruct 7. Drink more juice, less sauce 8. Don't lie about stupid shit 9. Vaginas are corrupt, beware, stay inside, be good. 10. Don't be selfish, you're a dad now. 11. No fighting, you have a record. The city is eating my liver with a straw Cars, people, food, air, sales, mail Oh what can my poetry be but warning Decorated in tales of woe and slop Pinned up by elongated vowels and Abrupt consonants puffing out their Thick and slurred rounds and hollows. This planet is screaming in my ear About death and music without meaning Old men parting their hair to give the news Selling smiles like bibles for cannibals And opinions by the erectile dysfunction ad. Heaven is a club everyone claims as theirs Here, take my invite, seat, and reason to go.