Ibid

night swallows night under the

singing catacombs of unwashed sheets and passing trucks.


there never is a short conversation with the

lonely who tell there tales of how they have

everything except someone to love them.


there is a message in shoelaces,those that

are always untied


or



how doors are louder when they are closed.


they tell me others died so I could live,but I see

the open window and the line behind it

waiting for exodus.


I fight for a spot underneath the belly

of parked cars.....


as morning approaches my mouth explodes with a truth

that is too heavy to carry.

angstfree verse

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