Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Mail (from "A Slip Of The Tongue")
there is always going to be
more mail.
it comes with each day,
with bills and dates and deadlines,
and eventually becomes piles of trash
in this apartment.

I eat crackers and get bits of it in my
teeth.
what I need now is a drink - maybe vodka -
something to wash it all
down.

today is like any other day: the mail stares at me.
and there are banks
and people
who want my money.

God, this life -
it burns my soul.
and I wonder about the past,
about music,
about old girlfriends
and about spirituality.

outside these walls
a city is burning somewhere...
a person is killing their brother...
a woman is getting raped...
and a child is getting aborted...

I don't want to sound pessimistic,
but jeeesus... what is it going to take to change all this?
I mean,
I'm getting drowned in all this mail
and I can barely cope with this madness.

I take another drink... I set the ceiling fan to low...
the light bulbs sit dry with bug decay...
the summer heat swells against the windows...
and I wonder...

what can a man do?
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Selected Poetry


Feeling Small (from "A Slip Of The Tongue")

it is dark and I am driving,
feeling tired and trying to pay attention to the road.
the lanes are packed ... (more)

A Million Miles Out To Nowhere (from "A Slip Of The Tongue")

today I feel like there are so many things that I want to get done
but I have no energy to see these things through.
I am standing at a million miles to nowhere. ... (more)

I Don't Know What Else To Say (from "A Slip Of The Tongue")

really,
the river has run dry
the ink is dull ... (more)

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