Remnants of Words

my ears drown in the music of the sixties

my thoughtss wanter aimlessly in all directions

my eyes penetrate deeply into my consciousness

my mind staggers as if on some drunken binge

words cut and pierce...  drawing blood...

hurt runs rampant inside repressed feelings

the domain of secrecy sits in the front row of an open air concert

time compresses itself into an eighteenth century snuff box

life's game plays out in empty stadiums and vaccinations

are mandated by those in power because they can;

mental weeds grow unrepentantly in the holy gardens

of our conditioned imaginations as we surf the

internet for clues on how to eliminate them from growing,

we cook meals on gas stoves and ovens making sure

all the onions are peeled first before being sauteed

with mushrooms and spinach in extra virgin olive oil

like the women for which we searched in high school;

mindful lyrics, recently disappeared, tell the

stories of all our crimes, endlessly perpetuated in

our juvinile fantasies...  written down in composition 

books and filed in cabinets, stored in the back rooms

of our subconscious basements where life began

and ended each day when awaken from our sleep;

temporary housing became the repository for our

angry words and expressions that were so colorfully

expressed by the way we dressed and behaved.

1 October 2021