Quatrains

Today, I rode in the street.
There was no blood to be found.
My EYE scoured the concrete
of the sidewalk where now I am bound.

Here, also, no blood to be found.
My sneakers will fill with sweat.
My hair is perfectly round.
I live my life on a bet.

This poem is not over yet.
Not even close.
I just decided to get my jaw reset.
My brain wants to be verbose.

Now I'm wearing pantyhose,
And I've changed my mind.
The end is very close.
It ends with this line.

They Have Told Us So

Behind the windows of the glass vaulted building
In the darkness that is always telling
Where silence is a golden halo
We might know what the peddler is selling

Where silence glows in golden rays
Behind winds that blow the blue air
They round up minutes of all our days
A blinding shadow at the top of the stair

Where rounded corners bend into night
They silence your most inner thoughts
And amplify the sound that is the light
And salvage all the flesh that rots

A blind shadow in a vaulted glass
Flesh that silence rounded top all blow golden

We Live In Tomorrow, Tomorrow Never Came

Today was here, a little like tomorrow
Still, it never came, blowing through
a wind that never came, a name that never knew.

A sequence of things that never will be.
Tomorrow never knows what it was supposed to say

nor did we go about it in the right way

Where did it go? That feeling we had the other day

Somebody must have wrapped it up
and mailed it away.