you're gone
but all too
*Present

Fighting dimensions that are not real
Virtual hatred virulent viral.

When man grows up
Something happens . . .
Some apathy kicks in.


(Moon spits its half-light in greenish gobs and smites my ashen shame
No, dunno where to hide my life
Lame with wide-eyed horror)


Telepheric jollity and catherine-wheel of fun
Like a mist . . .




Equation of hope  / /
M a n k i n d
=
    Kind man . . .



S T,  Sat (in)Auspicious  17, 2013

If sidewalks could talk,
They'd tell stories
Of hurried footsteps
As I chased you down the street
And you carried me back inside again.
If hinges could talk,
They'd tell tales
Of every evening
That ended in slamming doors
And gut-wrenching sobs.
If bed springs could talk,
They'd whisper the secrets
Of the nights we laid too close
And I allowed you to stay
Until I fell asleep.
If mailboxes could talk,
They would repeat
Every handwritten letter they held
That you once poured
Your feelings into
But don't anymore.
And if windows could talk,
They'd tell you
About every night
I gazed outside
Hoping you'd come back to me
But you never did.