A cry for help
a tearful wave
nothing reaches us
dead
from a life spent pleasing
all and everyone
without questioning
why
we should be so naive
to not even try
to understand
why
we were born to live
and die
without ever understanding
why, why, why.

from my bed
I watch
3 birds
on a telephone
wire.

one flies
off.
then
another.

one is left,
then
it too
is gone.

my typewriter is
tombstone
still.

and I am
reduced to bird
watching.

just thought I'd
let you
know,
******.

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.