To bite into a chicken’s fried leg
And tear it with a twist of the head
Lick the morsel stuck on the cheek
With the gravy dribbling down the chin…
To light and draw deep on a cigarette
And watch the plume rising
Or the rings reluctantly vanishing
Gazing at the clouds rolling by…
To fondle a glass of whisk y
And listen to the ice clinking
The nip in the air fading
As the cool breeze waltzes by…
To stretch back on the park bench
And ruminate on nothing
Content, still, fulfilled
And admire a young girl passing by…
Like the destitute child, hungry
Gazing at the goodies in the glass shelves
Hoping, that if he looks at it long enough
The glasses would melt
And those inside would come marching out
Straight at him –
Or, the shopkeeper, taking pity on him
Or to get rid of the pest –
Or a kind heart would buy one –
And
Throw it at him, ridding himself of the guilt –
The possibilities are many
For the beggar who cannot choose…
Trusting of your protection,
Trusting of your care,
There to look after me,
When my parents are away,
There to make sure I’m safe,
Make sure I eat,
Make sure I do my homework,
Make sure I sleep,
My friend,
My guardian,
My neighbor,
My babysitter,
Silence then fills the room,
A bitter cold enters,
Darkness rapidly pervades,
About to lose my innocence,
Catching her in another lie,
With another man,
Late as usual,
It’s all my fault,
A bad day at work,
Her mother getting fired,
Her softball team losing,
It’s all my fault,
A blizzard in March,
A flood in the street,
The power going out,
It’s all my fault,
Gas prices rising,
A flight delay,
A bad waiter,
It’s all my fault,
Perhaps
I don't deserve
Nice things
Cause I'm paying
For the sins I don't
Remember
I'm sorry for lying
I'm sorry for stealing
I'm sorry for the hurtful words
I'm sorry for the way I am
I'm sorry for the disrespecting words
I'm sorry for disrespecting people
I'm sorry for hurting you
I'm sorry for starting things
I'm sorry for getting in trouble
I'm sorry for trying to overdose
I'm sorry for breaking your heart
I'm sorry for everything
I'm sorry for my problems
I'm sorry for putting my hands on you
I'm sorry for telling stories
I'm sorry for my life style
After long delay I have entered
the room of the starving birds.
I bought a machine selling squirrels
and placed it in my room with
pigeons on porches
(their gentle, multicolored wings!),
little birds in cages asking to be fed,
a great black raven, and,
beyond my sight, another
Larger bird.
Then I chanced them;
journeyed, left the room,
but I worried,
and soon I came back to feed them.
A sense of urgency has driven me
to take my plate of omelet upstairs.
and now
no matter how many times
I take a shower
I scrub my hands
I will never feel clean again
You see.
that little sting you feel
everytime you see me in pain
that's guilt hun
and you caused that.
I can't hear anything
it's all just white noise
but I needed groceries
everyone is looking at me
like
it
was
me
that murdered
her.
nightmares plague my thoughts day and night
I wish I was the one killed instead of her
I wish she didn't stop breathing
How unfair is it
That I still feel the air and breathe it
And Daisy's body has long been cold as ice
Buried in the unforgiving ground
It's unfair
That I have the guts to walk
when she never will again
we feed the animals
great grey-white screaming
gulls one sitting on a rock
for hours waiting
he gets fed first
quick chirping chipmunks with sharp
stripes who come up
to our chairs rabbits - somewhere -
shy and snuffling
green-necked geese over the bay
knowing it could make them
too trustful of hunters
for ourselves
our pets we say
liking them to turn to us
to feel acknowledged needed share