What is 'crucial'

what determines the morrow's fate
the unblessed seasoning of your nextday plights
lies a vague

scratch on




the tarnished rock
of the foggy awaiting

They the bleary eyed Caulfields

and unsuspecting Kareninas
blind to the unmanned colours of their nextday
the whole spectrum of realizations
yet to be known

They the echoing wails of the foresuffering

knowing nothing but the etching of Coca Cola advertisements






and rude stirrings from the loose jawed thirtysomethings







that beckon for premature clarity

so sloppy ties can be tied

over cups of coffee and brittle one liners


knowing everything and nothing for a jarring four years

in silent genuflection to the top shelf of glossy girls








who wear their hourly wages from different men like wristwatches




















counting the seconds until some one




















any one














makes them feel wanted for their posterized souls




in secret understanding that they will live forever noir




like washed up Jane Greers superimposed into consumer infinity


hoping on judgment day the blondies and joes will be the first to be stripped nude





crying to their lost model of grace





asking Him how to take comfort fastened on bare trees




only when flames lick their heels will they hang their heads in shame















at least they hope so

What is 'right'

what twocent fortune pretending to be a threecent upper
the guttural growl floating by street signs and caution tape
warning a listener

"Eyes down




the capbill protects"
in faith the new blood can be salvaged