Poems October 2018

Let it die

I think I know what I must do
he said
to himself
who listened
To the whispers of the heart
punch clock
leave at 5
drive home

I know he keeps things in a box
and he swallows down the key

Let it die
Let it die

October 16, 2018

Bay Poem

Waterfronts in decaying industrial areas
Hint at promises that will not be kept

Rusting machinery enjoying a view
Side streets with
Art Deco buildings and chop shops
Can’t see anyone but you’re sure they’re smoking
And all the dogs are skinny sad things

Climb a hill?
A hill the rich seldom come down
Into a neighborhood in which you always feel lost
And find your way out without ever finding your way in

Later on
The sun sinks into un-swimmable water
A skinny sad dog gives you a cigarette
licks your hand
A breeze kicks up and makes the rusting machinery sing

October 15, 2018