A glimmer

A Glimmer
Always the hearbreak
driving downtown
past important people
in important cars
hustling here and there
like what they’re doing
really matters

I was
never made
for this

Broke and armed
with nothing
but poems in my heart
in desolate solitude
of dingy bars
or sad breakrooms
listening
to people clamor
about things
I’ll never
understand
like mortages
and sports pages

And across
unending asphalt
of American highways
and miles
of roaring
ocean
the class lines are drawn
and people more downtrodden
than I’ll ever be
go to bed
listening
to pangs of hunger
in their gut
and listening
to the clamor
of other important people
in important cars
forever alienated

While politicians
chatter on
about numbers
and statistics
but I’m not
a pie chart
I’m flesh
and tired bone

It’s grim
and they’re holding all the cards
with an ace
under the table

But don’t sing the blues America
Politicans
always have
politics
but dreamers
will always have dreams

And this dream
grows, illuminates
and explodes
splintering into
a thousand
desires

It doesn’t leave much
but it leaves
hope

That’s where I’ve been as of late, clinging to hope. I don’t have time for apathy anymore. There is a huge difference between surviving and living, and I haven’t been doing either extremely well.

There is always writing poetry, reading poetry, publishing, etc…. and I’m happy with all that, but waking up thinking about writing and going to bed thinking about writing means I’ve neglected a lot of other aspects of my life. It’s kept me in this factory, this town, this house.

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Author: wayne

Writer. Noise Artist.

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