UnbecomingĀ 

There is no time
to write
to feel
and say goodbye

There is no space
for love
for grief
or imagination let off its leash

Under layers
strata of stress and obligation
we are compressed into
depressed imposition

Evolution has been hacked
our physiology hijacked
as we bend
like the letter C
over glowing screens

Leaves me to wonder
will this second fire
be the end
of our species
or am I the less evolved
obsolete
sealing my fate
with such antiquated thinking

 

New Shoes

New shoes
Thrill me
Just as much
As when I went to Potters
With mom
And left 
In speedy red Zips
And a matching balloon 
(That would end up
On the ceiling of 5/3rd bank)
Loosely tethered 
To my wrist

I’m sure
If it were advisable 
I’d be able to run faster
In my new green Keens 
And leap up to pull
That balloon down
From the highest bank ceiling