I cannot say if things are worse
Than times that went before
For I saw not that bygone world
Nor what they did endure

Where once their sight was short,
Now it's growing nearer
Starter homes where they once held court
Go "green" like silver mirrors.

Elixirless were garden hoses
Plastic cups, no holy grails held beneath their noses
Now all you have left are pictures
That time has robbed of hue
I study them now, and try to suppose it
But the complexion hides no trace of youth:
Just spoiled cream and rotting roses
A foul-odored truth.

The trade was fair when young were the eyes
That fixed upon that crest, their prize
Now turned white with cataracts, still they **** it dry
And turn to bottles for babes set aside,
Begging pity for the old and blind
And anyone too far gone to toil.
"It shall be hard time," or so they cry,
"Served beneath the soil."

I do not know if things are better
For I can’t see past the doom
As we sign on the line, the place in the ledger
For a place in their scrapbook without any room

It's hard time indeed that's served beneath ravaged soil;
So tell me:

Can a head that sold my breaths to royals
Anoint itself King with motor oil?

Safe inside a bubble made of steel and glass
Sparkling with raindrops in the night’s lights
Warmth like bed, soft as a summer’s sigh wrapped in darkness
Words depart with the hitching breaths and racing hearts
Secret messages conveyed in the dew
A child’s finger-painted mural, pointing to where it hurts
The bottle inside is shaken near to combustion
The fences that have such good neighbors made
Crumble into soapy heaps
Suddenly there is no air, no breaths at all
Only the caress of a cheek, the whisper of a name
In one stolen moment, a secret yearning is given form
And outside the rain falls heavy and cool,
Promising respite from the confusion swirling inside,
The gift of the sky washing away any uncertainty.
But none comes. Outside the storm rages the same as within.
Soon the sun will rise, and perhaps
all will be made clear in the light of morning.

Somewhere in town,
a dog licks at the hand of a child.
a man with no shirt plays hacky-sack alone
The stalwart city has come crashing to her knees,
and so against his own he kicks the bag
again and again
as if he could raise the razed ground
with the power of a child's game.

I CRIED
YES I CRIED
and
LOVE TRIUMPHS OVER HATE
and
UNITE.

By a fountain on the curb
men with long hair and guitars sing together,
only strangers before today.
a woman who saw someone
gasping in vain for smokeless breath
inhales deeply from a cigarette.
A saxophone sings out sweet and low,
his melancholy tune sung
for everyone who can only hear
the screams, long gone silent save for in memory,
where they pierce as loud as sirens.

a boy walks to the movies with his mom
and asks her what the sign says.
she reads to him:

“TODAY IS
"A DAY AT THE MOVIES"
ALL MOVIES WILL BE FREE
TODAY.
STOP BY THE
CONCESSION STAND FOR A
COURTESY CUP OF SODA &
POPCORN”

and, baffled, he cannot understand why
a free movie
and a sugary drink
and a tub of popcorn
brings his seamless mother to tears.