Friday, February 26, 2010

poem of the day 02.26.10

we, the damned

the cross-eyed man
sits alone on the bus

he’s talking to someone in spanish

elsewhere they are preparing
to remove people from their homes
or from their jobs

some countries torture with violent force

others with passive debate and benevolent gestures

we, the damned

we’re mendacious to the core

gauche blobs of flesh most of the time

we’re just no good to each other

the cross-eyed man
he hangs up the phone

it was a bad phone conversation

he stares off into the distance
searching for something
out on the street

i want to ask him what it is that he sees
but he opens his phone again and dials

there’s someone else
to talk to now

2 comments:

Bukowski's Basement said...

Wonderful as always, John... I am in awe of your prolific nature. Amazed at your output. Stop making this look easy!

John Grochalski said...

i'll do that when you quit churning out all of those damned fine flash fiction stories you've been doing lately