Email Poem

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Poem

Chasing this into that chasing that into this
chasing silhouettes into a half assed crevasse
echoing " boy what is your purpose on this earth earth. 

Poking the dark for a piece of velvet, a note from a harp
A claw pokes at the skin of the soul
a change of direction is needed again... pronto
Mamma was right nothing good comes from out of the dark.

Eating the light like a greasy moth 
pitting parched lips against brightness.
Just another false prophet holding an empty bic
in the cul-de-sac of middle class wish.

At least it was an honest attempt to find a grain of meaning.
In the dusk of my breath, the same silhouette yaps...
"Man" what is your purpose on this earth.

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