the skies cried today
but who knows—
if the ones that are now wet
were disrespected by providence
or blessed
to no longer be
dying of thirst
it was a while ago
when the kids squinted
peeked into the lens
directed
to speak what they saw—
organisms splitting
futuristic swimming
subconscious wishing
to make meaning
one day
pt.1
just last week their see-saw stopped
realities accepted
realities reversed
stomachs holding cells
stomachs that were quelled
now she feels she’s starving
and the food won’t help
pt.2
today i saw a memory
i had left at the front desk
years since I’d seen her
i’d been permanently dismissed
she watched me leave, apathetic
her belly full now
i could have said hello
said congratulations
i didn’t, apathetic
it’s the most wonderful time of the year
when the homeless neighbors fill the streets
asleep, laid out on subway cars
in the lost art of a dream:
[a home containing many rooms
a family
a mother
a father
a baby in a cradle
a grandfather clock
a window for the sun to shine in
a carpet on the floor
and pillows on the couch
smells that resurrect the dead
food to put them all to rest
their tummies teeming to the brim
with emptiness
each swallow leading to an end
of sustenance
one more bite—
one more hit—
one more breath—
no more left—]
“excuse me, sir.
you’ll have to exit the train”
…
but, i’m already dead