this 30th of May
even the fireworks
sound tired
Categories
show your work
If an electric car
pulling away from a church
at 10:25 am
traveling 20 mph
toward the eventuality
of Sycamore Street
has Tom Waits crooning
inside it,
how long will it take
for the driver’s heart
to break?
sunlit green leaves flicker over
a cincinnati restaurant patio
sunday brunch amongst contemporaries
a skyline mural
of an astronaut
looking to the stars
above our heads
downtown buildings
turning toward the sun
glistening libations
sweatily klinking together
a toast made to the ending war
fully vaccinated folks
introducing themselves as such
shaking hands
faces aglow with possibility
shoulders swaying
to kettle drum music
masks off gently
seeing smiles
for the first time in a year
our festive nature quickening
heartbeats once acoustic
have gone electric
the gentleman at the table beside us explaining
upon reserving his table
he’d requested a framed picture of Bill Murray and a congratulations card for “Jeff”
to await his party upon arrival at their table
there is no Jeff of course
restaurants who agree to accommodate his request
are how he chooses where to dine
when traveling out of town
our laughter turning on
theatre marquee lights
no one interested in food
it’s spring
the whole city has tickets to a Redlegs game
we have survived the plague
everyone is tired of eating
tired of fearing
tired of dying
yet everyone
seems ready to fuck
who knew
the 6th mass extinction
on the planet
would be set into motion
not by a furious comet
instead thrown into chaos
by an insidious cloud
of misinformation
(que piano music)
what we call eternity lasts
approximately 3 seconds
it is the state of a happy heart
at the moment of your death
as your brain powers down
the last thing it processes are images of
everything you ever loved
mercifully
that is our shared heaven
Trump is their Manson.
The traitors who desecrated the Capitol building are Tex Watkins and the Manson family.
Democracy is their Sharon Tate.
Categories
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ATM
They
will sell you
candy cigarettes,
insulin,
Camel Wides,
chemotherapy,
God,
nicotine patches,
life insurance,
and a bronze casket
all
in one lifetime.
in death
our ribs remain skyward
like hands
cast to heaven
in prayer
Categories
Are you free?
meet me in Tompkins Square
the Temperance Fountain
at noon
March 2, 2029
there’s a place I want to show you on the lower east side
of a dumpster
before we die
we’ll find a restaurant
on W 23rd Street
named for a playwright
ride the subway to Lincoln Center
feed the last of our excuses
to wanton pigeons
lose ourselves
underground
adding a single entry
for everything we never shared
to the archive
oh, did I mention
it’s a Friday
Categories
fog pressed to a window pane
i’ve spent my life
thinking about people
who were not there
those whose love
came measured
in teaspoons
hidden in poems
please know
i didn’t write this for you
&
i’m taking my coffee black
this morning
aayoung 