When you have money
the world stops to listen
The content no matter
gratuity bound

The dollars indulgent
as charlatans glisten
Self-interest the mantra
— with greed to compound

(Septa R5 Train: January, 2025)

We trigger an avalanche of reactions,
without consciousness of faults made.

We tread on the thin ice of the lake.
Under us, everything drifts.

Inner voices
urge us, despite the cold.

Personal anxiety
the back of the head throbs.

We wear different states of existence:
Happiness, purgatory, and despair.

Living despite boundless doubts,
we are sculpting our metaphysic.

I had a dream
That I was star gazing
And all the stars fluttered away
Like lightning bugs
From a disturbed field
And my true path was revealed
Then I woke up
And forgot everything

©2024