1.  The only escape from this nightmare is death
     But that’s not escape - it’s nothing but a blackout.
     The only hope left flickers and dies
     Like an ill-tended summer campfire
     As the lucky numbers refuse to compute,
     And all that’s left is sand and sun     
     That scorches all attempts to find a way
     To make accommodations to the heat.

      Safe for now inside a fragile stucco igloo,
      What will happen when the statement comes
      That says we can’t afford the ice
      That’s needed to stave off the burn,
      And there’s no shady place to go and hide.
      With no escape to dream filled sleep
      There’s only counting minutes on a clock that                                                          never  moves.                             
                                                                ­                                    
2.   The ragged sleeve is not caught up at night
      And the road ends at a chasm of despair.
      The winds and tides are out of sync
      And morning comes at midnight.
      Writhing in the tangled sheets, I’m
      Thinking thoughts with no way out,
      Of what was always bound to come,
      Riding on another bad decision.

3.   Death will not lure me this night -
      Too cruel to leave him here alone
      Without the necessary tools to live
      And find a road that leads to hope.
      If only slumber was my friend
      And I was not out counting stars
      When it’s too dark to find my way
      And all the nearby world is snoring.

4.   Huddled in a corner with a pen
      The paper blots up tears and ink
      And offers no hope of surcease
      To seeds of panic poised to grow.
      If only a little rain would fall.

ljm

A snob and a guy,
They should have been kin,
A scholar and a pedestrian,
An unlikely pair,
Two of the best!,
Indeed!
It was, "another fine mess!",
"Fine"-"Indeed"!
I don't know why.....
I loved it when the skinny one cried!
Even better...(I'm not so bad)
I love it when the fat guy got mad!
Together was genius,
Alone only half,
I am glad they met and made me laugh
©B L Costello 2019

I set goals in my early childhood.
I was smart and pretty
And so I seemed unstoppable.

I wanted to be a singer
I have a songster’s soul
But I lacked an instrument.
I could carry a tune, alright,
But only in basket, not on
Angel’s lyric wings.

I wanted to be a movie star.
Drama coursed my veins like blood,
But every door I managed to open
Led only to a filthy casting couch.
And those with honorable intentions
Somehow never looked my way.

I wanted to be a game show winner
And I was lucky enough to be on three.
Won a car which I quickly sold
And parting gifts I still enjoy.
But quiz shows are a youthful  game
And skills diminish with the years.

I wanted to marry only once
And live happy ever after.
For 20 years I lived that dream
But time wore out the fantasy
And bad advice led me to ponder
And finally, sadly, walk away.

I wanted to be Mother of the Year.
I threw exciting Birthdays
Was chairman of the PTA
Never missed the least event
But when my Angel turned 14
She told me that I ruined her life
By telling her she was beautiful.

I wanted to greet the year two thousand
I counted up when I was ten to see
If I had a chance to live that long,
And it seemed that I could do it.
The computers did not crash and
I met a long time goal at midnight.

I wanted a 50-year Gold Watch
And a happy retirement dinner.
I labored faithfully towards that end
Even though the path became
A quagmire of racist hate and envy
And I was let go at year 48 with
No benefits of any kind.

I’ve given up on setting goals
There’s just one left I want to meet.
I want to live a century
And list one hundred as my age.
I think that I can pull this off -
I’ll stubbornly just refuse to die.
ljm

Across the street is our old home
But we don’t live there any more
Another couple starts their life
As we did many years before

It doesn’t look just as it did
They changed things here and there
They’re putting their brand on the place
And doing things we didn’t dare

Solar panels on the roof
The lawn an arid scene
They’re into Big Ecology
They will be living green

I thought to see it would be pain
The home I did not want to leave
But it no longer looks the same
So I no longer need to grieve

It’s just another pretty house
I have one of my own
Mine’s in a lovely desert place
That happily I now call home.
ljm

I write so not to
suffocate on my
smoky thoughts

I write so not to
forget that I, too,
have a voice that
won’t be silenced

I write so not to
use the knife
as an outlet

I write so not to
choke on the thorny words
that linger in my throat

I write so not to
be hushed by my—
inner demons
—sweet seductress

I write so not to
burn alone in
my own inferno

I write so not to
die