poem of the day 12.17.10

little footsteps

rain down like thunder
from the apartment above
when i’m drinking wine
and contemplating the noose

little footsteps
hiss along a white ceiling
that is warped
and bubbled

little footsteps
of ancient women congregating

little footsteps
that are like armies
marching in step
entering a fallen city

little footsteps
curse sundays full of nothing
that symbolize
the weak progress of man

little footsteps
full of doom

little footsteps
like a pack of elephants

rattling in my head
rattling in my soul
infesting my goodwill

as i reach
for the aspirin
the telephone
and the twelve month lease