birth, death and what's in between flowing
faster than the smoke that thunders on the
misty memory side of the southern zambezi;
our mistakes for racial barriers that we tear
down when it suits our purpose, creating
friends of the survivors no one wants to have but
cannot shed easily as if it were a lingering virus;
moments stretch into years and soon decades
are left on our doorstep like some holiday package
the postman left at the wrong house and was
used by strangers until no longer of any use;
heaven is the ideal state-of-mind as the devil
takes up residence in the minds of the forsaken
limiting their chances and outcomes while providing
sustenance to those who have forgotten to die;
the street cleaner's moustache is like his broom
that sweeps up wall street dirt as if it were car parts
from a chop shop that did not use sticks to feed
themselves the truth that they were trying to hide;
potato peelers trim off life's excesses while the
sous prepares the meal for the drunken chef whose
life no longer depends on client patronage or
on the customer's constant irrational satisfaction;
unintended consequences are the memories of the
blameless as their tithes never reached the homeless
and the homeless never went home to their mansions
once the pandemic put fear into the hearts of man;
daydreams and wet dreams became the folly of congress
once the parties collided into compromise and gave up
their will to an counterfeit antique dealer who was
high on cocaine from a previous failed marriage;
honor and integrity were treated with chemo
since all the illegal immigrants became oncologists
and live in the hospital so they can walk to work
just as easily as they had walked their way to freedom;
clever words were buried with all the removed statues,
the law of the land were sold for super bowl tickets,
and aging became a luxury of the dare devils who
lost their virginity when we lost our constitution.
20 March 202
