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
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2 comments:
Wonderful as always, John... I am in awe of your prolific nature. Amazed at your output. Stop making this look easy!
i'll do that when you quit churning out all of those damned fine flash fiction stories you've been doing lately
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