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Busbar Dancer Jan 2017
Sun come up but
not for me.
My name is not whispered by the wind
when it blows through that tall stand of pines.
What now passes for a winter night,
with its tepid atmosphere and
lack of magic,
does not call.
If it did I wouldn't answer.
Standing sentry
are the haints and phantoms -
the faded pains
felt as echoes are heard,
left forgotten but waiting.
All of this time spent idly watching the world feels wasted, but
we've been secretly reinventing nuance.
I dont recognize it anymore.
Too bad, really, since
I've always loved subtle difference.
  Jan 2017 Busbar Dancer
Nico Reznick
Never enough.
Never enough of anything.
It's always running low,
running out.
Money, energy, time.

The fuel gauge
threatens empty.
The bank balance
teeters and tips
into the red.
Almost out of smokes, and there's
one last shot
in the bottle.
The car tax expires
in two days.

You've been
exhausted
since forever.
You can't kid yourself
that you're young any more.
Clocks tick
just to **** with you.
It's dark, but
not as dark
as it gets.
More or less tongue-in-cheek.
Busbar Dancer Jan 2017
There’s a menacing chill
on the air
this evening.
“Had I the wherewithal
I’d leave this place,”
I think to myself
as the first warning is issued
by that unfriendly cloud
hanging low and dark
over the mountain.
While once I thought that
the rain would fall with purpose,
I’ve come to understand
that floodwater has no manifesto
except to place the scumline as high as it can.
We can stack these sandbags tall
around our hearts
without regard for what’s on either side of the dam.
They’re only transient monuments to ineffectiveness anyway.


An assassin stands at the corner
wondering if I’ll ever leave my house
and its warmth.
I have news for him, though…
There’s nowhere to go, and
the weatherman thinks we’ll have a storm.
Hoping your gutters are clean.
  Aug 2016 Busbar Dancer
Torin
I'm so tired
   Of the trying
The way I play with words
  Saying more with less
And the only lesson I have learned
Be
Simple
For
The
Masses
Are
                       Simple
Now come up
    Comeuppance all at once
Amateurs that strike against
    The professional
Its a lesson taught against from
Poets
Deaf
Dumb
Blind
And
Cynical
                       Simply said
I'm getting tired.  Hp, a community of poets,  where community matters more than poetry.  Save it for the art, or be without



https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=teMnEZjdim4
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