March 2, 2013

chasing light, wading into the dark...

photo by Edward Rinaldi ©

mapping all our loves for sale

at night I like to go out
to convenience stores
I enjoy looking at everyone
under the white light serenade
I look at their bucket loaded emotions
their close vested uncertainties
I question the motivations
milk egg bread cheese and beer
what has brought them here
what do each of our lives
have to do to fill in
the spaces between ancillary intelligence
and the stick figures of our desires
are we fragments of bone
are we skin and muscle atoned
are we eternities
are we dreams of chance
are we dancing blind here
with a salt sugar squeeze
against a scent of immortality
or are we just moments made
into coffins and history
market research waiting

the gold of Coronado
is in the memory of the Sun
when it is dark out
the plated seams of humanity
is in our old paper promises
our four wheeled metal machines
the reasons why we slurp junk 
and drive wired
we are always craving
more combustion
more hose to heel
I know how to deal myself not seen
when I leave the house at night
the store, sometimes, is where
I leave my money on the counter
and walk out empty handed
more than willing to steal from myself
this way I can ensure
no one will ever see me packaged
a shiny plastic shrink wrapped
bright lettered poet for sale


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