poem of the day 12.03.09

conduits

more and more they seem to be
in the subway station these days

these conduits of god

you know, the crazy people
the garbage-scented lunatics
with their shit-stained placards
and their shopping carts full of plastic bags

the ones crying out to save all of our souls

as we go from job to job
as we go shopping
as we head to the bars, the offices,
and to the grave

the ones standing against soiled walls
shouting out both the doomsday
and the good word.

i wonder what the meaning is
behind all of this recent action.

the holidays?
the economy?

probably nothing.

it is in the human condition
to look for patterns where none exist.

still, it is odd to see so many of them
praising the lord
scolding humanity
threatening the fire and the brimstone.

it actually seems like a good gig
like better than staggering through fifty-two weeks
eight hours a day
and twenty-six paychecks a year.
and that’s if your lucky.

i think these stupid angels might
have something here.

i wonder how they got into their holy racket
why they got the call and i didn’t.

i mean i can’t claim sanity on this one
i do plenty of stupid things
only most of the time they are within the bounds
of typical human decency

how boring.

not like these people.
not like these madmen and madwomen
shouting
moaning out into the void
two steps away from the madhouses
and taking pleasure in their servitude

when we all know the real insanity
is right there in front of our faces
it’s in the drab offices
it’s in the friday afternoon meeting room
it’s on the rush hour train
it’s sitting on plates full of lackluster meals
it’s the silence that hangs between bad conversation
it’s the radiation coming out from the television
and it’s swirling in the glass that isn’t
strong enough anymore

it’s that lump of empty flesh staring back at you
when you look in the mirror
too early in the goddamned morning
on a weekday
when all hope has been forsaken
and something just has to get done