we got bored
so we got together.
now all we talk about's
the past and the weather.

Sandra works the slots all day
Smoking cigarettes; taking free drinks
Feeding the bandits instead of her soul…
Knowing it's daylight, somewhere!
Ken throws craps; blackens the Jack
Winks sickly at the cocktail waitress
Imagines doing things way past his prime…
Knowing it's nighttime, somewhere!
Passing hours like their years
Bathed in sticky syrup distraction
Dismount stool, lurch; pin-***** pupils
They meet at the buffet; tepid, bland
As their vacation; their marriage
Mid-life shape shifting sand!

© pofacedpoetry – Billy Reynard-Bowness (2018) – All rights reserved

From whom are you wanderer?
The road on which you unravel,
Basking,
and on the brim of infinity
the body becomes nest for neighboring
critters
Ineffable, microscopic, macroscopic
And in the (in) between
on the peak of no where the whole widens,
the well wanes a wish deeper,
All the while
diamonds crest beneath aim
Gold, my galore...
of whom, are you

Life is a record scratch
a record scratch
a record scratch
a record scratch
a record scratch
a record scratch
Until the needle is lifted
and moved somewhere new

Restlessly observing a stagnant drove
Youngsters complacently waddle as
Elders spike the pipes with bitterness
Resenting advancement and ambition.

Your dullness dissatisfies
Absence of desire disappoints
Concealed or forgotten
By a drivel of dust.

I'm rummaging through my messy-closet mind for the choice bits of delectable emotional pain
The agony that come from being the complex and bitter soul I am

But I'm not finding any

I'm actually fairly happy.
Moderately cheerful.
Not floating on clouds, or manic, or bursting with energy.

Just... pretty good.  Quite alright.

This isn't good for poetry.

Or self pity.

What do I do now?

A person goes out to town to cure
Boredom or loneliness
Often looking to conquer both

Even an introvert wants company
It’s taken six years to go search

I found a coffee shop
With a black box room

I took a seat
And waited for the host
To start the show
Improv comedy
Never been to one of those

The host asked
What’s inside this invisible box
Answers came out from the audience

I said a can of worms
Not loud
I hate attention
But the host heard
And chose that can of worms

Someone listened to me
And now they are making
Me my own personal joke

I got to admit
I was jealous
Each member has conquered
The fear of people
Of being in front of people
Of speaking to people
Acting crazy in front of people

The show was great
We all had a laugh
One day I will thank them
And maybe one day
I’ll join on that stage

Just one foot in front of the other
Next week is a poetry reading
And that’s where I’ll be