Four walls close in on me
cramped space, barren
small slots force in sunlight
passing clouds, a sliver of hope
strange sense of being
deep breaths
many still to arrive
no privacy
far away screams
claw walls, sweat
curse words, threats, gangs, violence
populate this prison
hot, steamy, smelly, airless space
hunger, my innards ache
gruel, tasteless slop
reality is blind
sleep, only consolation
disturbed by black night noise
grasp at memories, dreams
no sense of time, monotony
boredom surrounds
wait
no one should ever exist like me

Summer moon winks to my delight
but when he shows a scowl
he shrouds me with fright
the stars, they eternally shimmer
and cause my eyes to blink
I plead with them again to turn the lights much dimmer
a lonely star tumbles to the ground
I run, legs flying, to catch it and miss it
mother says come, I guess I'm homeward bound

Humans suffer
disease, decay
waste away
humiliate
defecate
a sluggish blob
I ask myself
how do I confront death
with dignity

The moon has a face
two bright eyes, nose, smiley mouth
a cloud smothers it

Clockwork
midnight encroaches
a silent, old male reappears
to forage for leftover food
in unlocked, rusty garbage cans
street lamps divulge his coal black eyes
treacherous claws, slick snout
the moon’s torch accentuates
the thickness of his brown, hairy torso
his agility
every evening, his midnight supper
awaits his vacuous belly
no matter how paltry

He jumps the train
as the wheels come
to a screeching halt
darkness covers him
he runs, legs flip in the air
he pants, looks back
the armed men sleep
relief
a chill in the night air
his skin reveals
the moon hides
he stumbles
powerful will to survive
sounds of the forest flourish
thick with brush
closer
the last struggle
it embraces him
freedom

Dawn
sun peeks above the horizon
billowy white clouds dangle high
mist hovers low to the ground
rainbow colors stretch
as the gasses flow
into the swelling round balloon
a straw basket lay
on damp long grass
in wait for our journey
we board, listen, smell the fumes
to our surprise
bottles of champagne
black caviar

We lift off
as the engines roar
we greet the sun
but only for moments
we can almost touch the cotton clouds
we climb as they dance around us
dive, skip around tree tops
then swiftly surge upwards
like a gymnast's cartwheels

The gasses ease
as we gently drift toward earth
we look below
at a field of bright yellow flowers
as we put down on this soft cloth
greeted by French school children
all giggles, they stare at us
and our rainbow balloon
but what would this journey be
without an ending of champagne and caviar