what does one mean
in who ever's life,
i have to wonder,

'cause it's like
someone's coming
to your home
yet not seeking you
there, although
you still try to be
visible.

maybe
you shouldn't care.
but how can you
not to?

Alices in holes,
swaying in the
land of mirrored
doors. Stiffed
Humpties on walls,
in the distant light.

Dumped my faith,
once, twice, three times
dumped it.  So, you see,
chopped my own heart,
had to.
Will you have me
around your table,
Mad Hatter, sir,
'cause i'd suit so well,
into a merry go-round.

No more me to
hand out, delusional
believer in stories,
made up stories
in snow faked globes.

Oh yes, of course,
i can pass the sugar,
we ran out of salt.
Shall we overdose now,
from a sweetened slumber?

i do not know
how to pray
or whom to pray to,
but, sometimes,
it feels like praying,
to wish for people
to be happy
and fulfilled.

it feels like praying,
sometimes,
when i am capable
of choosing not
to judge and instead
i smile a sincere smile,
and i watch their prejudges
dissolve in the lack of attack,
their eyes discovering what
their heart is feeling.

then, those times,
when them and i
grow to be as kids
in a playground,
we gather in our humanity
and it feels like praying.

it definitely does.

pots and pans.
the radio is on.
the curry
fills the air.
vivid red
and dark
orange silk
float around
a porch,
you'd gift me
mangoes,
ripe mangoes,
this sweetness,
this yearning.
pots and pans.
the radio's mute.
time to stir.

thoughts,
speeding,
a fuzz of neon lights,
a buzzing of highways,
what was what i was to do?,
chocolat, please,
or not,
a gag upon it,
a shut down,
oh the vertigo
of the echoes,
have a drink,
red velvet wine,
your lips, lend me
your tongue, oh my,
delusional again,
okay,
one, two, three,
what?, counting helps,
or maybe going alphabetically
through words, a for
whatever,
hey, who cares,
let it be,
no train is endless
(hopefully)

the burial.

another,
again.

there
will be
no tomorrow.

children die.

mothers bury
the unripe fruit
of their womb.

who has
turned out
the light?

i can go
on my own
all through
the night

but if you
would hold
my hand

there would be
a kind of a purpose
for walking
the dark