almost there
almost where
moonbeams meet majesty
and artisans seek pageantry

that aisle
number 13 while
away I did
stood

trying to blend into
some splashed canvas work
feeling out of place
time turning blank space

next to what has been said
is a great statue monument
looks like a homeless man
in a shopping cart

to the avant garde
the well heeled glassed
champagne nosed up retinue
surveyors all *** reamers knew

the painting all held in esteem
oooohed and ahhhed  made fainting
sighs said oh my a lot
were my patrons my matron's lot

since I ran out
and ran into
and ran away and ran aground
ran off aways and stood

all out of breath and
new  pain in my side
pain in my *** subsided
pain in my head transcribed

I  knew I wasn't poetic
nor the next new (sic)
toy, or a bright flame
on any rich dame's horizon

I sat on the curb disturbed
worried for my next Hors d'oeuvre.
about to smoke
my last bit of dope

"missing" hangs
              like lose fabric
                        on my skin
that I feel hollow beneath

"it" covers me, yet
              leaves me feeling
        exposed
aware of a vacancy

I kick the pile of ants see
them get fired up
little specks all running wild
rebuild that nest
protect their queen
just to wonder life
how mysteriously
glorious
those specks of dirt almost
have a destiny as
much as ours
and who's to say
we will always be
the Kings and Queens
someone small
or unseen
may someday kick
our nest

She has no mirror
but where flirt the leaves with the pond
she comes in the cool of noon
mixing the dark of her hair
with the summer shade
dipping into glass green water
her toes and far above
and all the pond sees
encrypts within the bubbles of rainbow
that only her clothes
swelled in awe
can read.

I dread each eve so filled with grief
A heart benumbed in disbelief
I rant, I rave, I cry, I pray
Why does my angel so betray?

In bed I stare awake all night
Frigid fear, orphaned plight
I pinch and zoom and try to clutch
To reconnect - one last touch!

I'm haunted by that blessed call
When you hit the dreaded "wall"
I pray you're on the other side
Free of pain, strength in stride

Another morn, another fright
Sleep escapes, emotional blight
O Mom, I hope you hear my plea
From my demons set me free!

This scar on my shoulder reminds me that you were real
Those texts in my old flip phone show me you were here
I hear your laugh in my head
And see your eyes when I look in the mirror
I can still feel your body heat
Like you never left

If  You have been sending
fires, floods, and mind boggling hurricanes
to get our attention -  

This morning I watched  a newscaster  holding
a screaming  baby she had just pulled from
what used to be his  home  and no one  was
coming to get him--

You have my attention.