When you heard children
Are the future, did you hear it literally?
Or that kids in a large white house on top
A hill, will argue over who gets to play with your toys
Benjamin Black-Odinma
The Whipping Boy
When you heard children
Are the future, did you hear it literally?
Or that kids in a large white house on top
A hill, will argue over who gets to play with your toys
Benjamin Black-Odinma
Some Re-Creation
Walking the hot streets
Of L.A night light shines down
Like x-ray
A gentle breeze
Chopping thoughts
Into tiny pieces of gold
I give to everyone young and old
Wealth will pass
Until the world is beautiful but,
Then I remember
We're all broke nowadays,
Even king and queen and
Unless your
under The Streetlight
You can't see my thoughts
Of L.A night light shines down
Like x-ray
A gentle breeze
Chopping thoughts
Into tiny pieces of gold
I give to everyone young and old
Wealth will pass
Until the world is beautiful but,
Then I remember
We're all broke nowadays,
Even king and queen and
Unless your
under The Streetlight
You can't see my thoughts
Sour Milk
The silence increases by an aging tongue making less fuss.
Again, we do this sew......The urgent pressings of
rebirth will diminish. unweaving
our webAgain and Again, two sew this gap largely untouched.
Time is ageless within
Its symmetry shifts the true secretes too
make the flowers smile
Beauty breaks down the mouth venom
is distilled in the mind, and labeled
so as something important to put a way
Alien materials form around the contour
of our actions and crawl through a nervous
system to push out your black third eye
I'm alone!
enlightened by this knowledge
Of symmetry's superior gaze in time and space
once Again whole
Wholly cocooned. Your truth is being
Impregnable to bullets of ego- that lying immortality
Again, we do this sew......The urgent pressings of
rebirth will diminish. unweaving
our webAgain and Again, two sew this gap largely untouched.
Time is ageless within
Its symmetry shifts the true secretes too
make the flowers smile
Beauty breaks down the mouth venom
is distilled in the mind, and labeled
so as something important to put a way
Alien materials form around the contour
of our actions and crawl through a nervous
system to push out your black third eye
I'm alone!
enlightened by this knowledge
Of symmetry's superior gaze in time and space
once Again whole
Wholly cocooned. Your truth is being
Impregnable to bullets of ego- that lying immortality
Ouroboros eclipse
To stand myself I must
fill up with voices. Anything.
that promises delivery to a doorstep...
And once again in my search to shut him
away, I fail level after level.
Sew,
i've distracted the where abouts of my thoughts
that This chimera I created will terrorize a ghost
in some other kind. Instead of the kind
that's glue to my attention
Sew,
with the blemishes
disappearing, it's honorable at first
Until you realize you're only worry's skin deep
fill up with voices. Anything.
that promises delivery to a doorstep...
And once again in my search to shut him
away, I fail level after level.
Sew,
i've distracted the where abouts of my thoughts
that This chimera I created will terrorize a ghost
in some other kind. Instead of the kind
that's glue to my attention
Sew,
with the blemishes
disappearing, it's honorable at first
Until you realize you're only worry's skin deep
Grimorie
You can't find
The Trick
The one you think
It's Magic.
Step up slow and shy
You're wowed by
Amazement you think is
Magic come closer
but please try and hide
You'll learn
If you only try
Once, twice, and
A third time charm
Step up, step up
No need for alarm
Cera, Cera
I geuss I
Lied
The Trick
The one you think
It's Magic.
Step up slow and shy
You're wowed by
Amazement you think is
Magic come closer
but please try and hide
You'll learn
If you only try
Once, twice, and
A third time charm
Step up, step up
No need for alarm
Cera, Cera
I geuss I
Lied
You were the only one...
I can still remember your
when we
But now my memory of
slowly slipping away
Times when we would
And your smile
I don’t want to forg you
But how can
when you’re
Gone.
Benjamin Black-Odinma
Phoebus and his car
Golden amethyst light duet
Embalmed by racing
Entombed from extinguished thought
Encasing stopped by
.................................................the controlling void...
A blend of shadow, space, and bleeding inside the void
Now light extinguish stopped
Inside you
Inside your hoping ambivalence
Ruling to release
Now I go!
Dim release to radiance
Twirling
.................Unfolding
.....................................Twirking
Now bliss is seething bliss
With a morning perfection
That dims at dawn...
Embalmed by racing
Entombed from extinguished thought
Encasing stopped by
.................................................the controlling void...
A blend of shadow, space, and bleeding inside the void
Now light extinguish stopped
Inside you
Inside your hoping ambivalence
Ruling to release
Now I go!
Dim release to radiance
Twirling
.................Unfolding
.....................................Twirking
Now bliss is seething bliss
With a morning perfection
That dims at dawn...
The Angel keeps laughing
Her songs in bed were
All full of lead, binding me
To reason
So I opened her head, found
A girl instead. The compulsive act of Treason
You won't see me musing over
A startling love that
leaves one hurt
Or bruised.
I've clipped my
Wings and rather like walking,
I've never been so fully amused
Benjamin Black-Odinma
All full of lead, binding me
To reason
So I opened her head, found
A girl instead. The compulsive act of Treason
You won't see me musing over
A startling love that
leaves one hurt
Or bruised.
I've clipped my
Wings and rather like walking,
I've never been so fully amused
Benjamin Black-Odinma
Again, Eternal return
I. CONTRITION
Dear Jesus,
Your starry eyes
Have chased our cave thoughts into the busy street
But we've burned all the history books
And listen to the prophets say-
"I want to be destroyed with you"
And now that the dark has no teeth anymore
We run to it in our dreams where
Where we do coke off weiji boards
And imitate ghosts
"Ed Gein is my idol"
But Apollo's under my floorboards
What should I do with him now?
Now that we know
There's everlasting rest within The Big Secret
But tell me
What has perception taught you?
Every night we kill ourselves
To bring a corpse to life
In post-mortem toxic incite
Perception was just a lie
II. PATH TO EDEN
Pooling twist of ivory on my decay
We walk
In search of beer and
Columbine trouble
Breaking walls
To search the rubble
Passing Plato and Kant at the liquor store
We keep walking
Til I join the moonlight
I walk with vital breathe
Watching stones grow
Roses between their cracks
I keep my energy balanced
To defang darkness
We keep moving
Til I'm lost in midnight but smiling
Perception is just a lie
III. CULLET
I once was a glass fellow
In love with this girl
Who had no faith for my violence
She said to me-
"Your the reason John Lenon was shot!”
I said to her-
"Christ died for his own sins. Not mine!"
Then we drank our tears
Pulling the mind
Fart's from affection
To make them cloud-nine
To grow smiles when the misery parts
Below and beside her short comings
I become demon to drain affliction
Taking time to gather grins for her lament
With dawn at the heels
Face buried deep inside a heart asphyxiation
I can break the mirror into an egg
But can I sweep it to the back of my head?
To become one with her as my reflection sleeps
In the warmth of absolution
When " I " awake,
" I " am born.
Speaking with the fearful man's infant voice
In the black of every infant's
mind-forged puritanical-
“Perception was just a lie”
Benjamin Black-Odinma
Dear Jesus,
Your starry eyes
Have chased our cave thoughts into the busy street
But we've burned all the history books
And listen to the prophets say-
"I want to be destroyed with you"
And now that the dark has no teeth anymore
We run to it in our dreams where
Where we do coke off weiji boards
And imitate ghosts
"Ed Gein is my idol"
But Apollo's under my floorboards
What should I do with him now?
Now that we know
There's everlasting rest within The Big Secret
But tell me
What has perception taught you?
Every night we kill ourselves
To bring a corpse to life
In post-mortem toxic incite
Perception was just a lie
II. PATH TO EDEN
Pooling twist of ivory on my decay
We walk
In search of beer and
Columbine trouble
Breaking walls
To search the rubble
Passing Plato and Kant at the liquor store
We keep walking
Til I join the moonlight
I walk with vital breathe
Watching stones grow
Roses between their cracks
I keep my energy balanced
To defang darkness
We keep moving
Til I'm lost in midnight but smiling
Perception is just a lie
III. CULLET
I once was a glass fellow
In love with this girl
Who had no faith for my violence
She said to me-
"Your the reason John Lenon was shot!”
I said to her-
"Christ died for his own sins. Not mine!"
Then we drank our tears
Pulling the mind
Fart's from affection
To make them cloud-nine
To grow smiles when the misery parts
Below and beside her short comings
I become demon to drain affliction
Taking time to gather grins for her lament
With dawn at the heels
Face buried deep inside a heart asphyxiation
I can break the mirror into an egg
But can I sweep it to the back of my head?
To become one with her as my reflection sleeps
In the warmth of absolution
When " I " awake,
" I " am born.
Speaking with the fearful man's infant voice
In the black of every infant's
mind-forged puritanical-
“Perception was just a lie”
Benjamin Black-Odinma
ENSO: Pinnochio's Theme
ENSO: PINNOCIO’S THEME
He came in with the issuing storm
A little boy lost in the lonely field
Of Dreams
Led on by the Wiseman's talking light
Apostle's love dripping, the boy
Maybe a Man, sees me and
I know
I had crushed his bones under
The weight with my years
Until he stripped his wings
And sat beside me. Fronting
A fireplace to say;
“The winter
Is dead. And the night was a cold come hither;
I have kissed Summer Winds since before the world began
But my youth still has yet to wither
Am I his broken temptation?
Each day becomes more difficult to know that
I’ve rejected the open door in
Nature’s lap,
Not to be confused with creation”
I laugh from the shadows
And betrayed the wooden boy’s wrestle
To the watchful eye of millions. This
Is magnificence!
I say, this is to perfect your encore, uh…a metaphor
Let this be a testament to your resilience!
Benjamin Black-Odinma
He came in with the issuing storm
A little boy lost in the lonely field
Of Dreams
Led on by the Wiseman's talking light
Apostle's love dripping, the boy
Maybe a Man, sees me and
I know
I had crushed his bones under
The weight with my years
Until he stripped his wings
And sat beside me. Fronting
A fireplace to say;
“The winter
Is dead. And the night was a cold come hither;
I have kissed Summer Winds since before the world began
But my youth still has yet to wither
Am I his broken temptation?
Each day becomes more difficult to know that
I’ve rejected the open door in
Nature’s lap,
Not to be confused with creation”
I laugh from the shadows
And betrayed the wooden boy’s wrestle
To the watchful eye of millions. This
Is magnificence!
I say, this is to perfect your encore, uh…a metaphor
Let this be a testament to your resilience!
Benjamin Black-Odinma
Admission towards disappearance
I.
I watched her rise from a pile of rubble
With wings made of cardboard
Feathers formed from iron and steal
Marred by sullen screws
Remissed
A clunky bird-child excuse for creation
Though something beautiful...
"Where are you going?" I asked
"I can live in trees now..." she said
Grim smile in-tacked
Then I watched her fly upon a delicate branch
A small bird
No bigger than a pebble
Thrown into that vast ocean of sky
But deceitfully heavy there.
As if a man had fallen upon her
Twigs cracked
And maimed bark
The unforgiving tree saw her disappear
Into the cold vastness
Of its erection
II.
She spilled out of the air
From a bowl-full of ASHES
A wing-headed girl
Shaking her feathers with rashness
One eye winking at madness
Singing in the heavy fog of a smarting accent
A song she claimed her mother gave her
Raised to falsetto
With a hint of sadness
Her wings clutched the air like rough hands
And climbed the sky
Toward its peak to stand
"Where are you going?" I asked
"Oh god it’s wonderful to get out!" she said with grin
"And drink too much!"
"And smoke too much!"
"And to love so many goddamn men!"
III.
In her cage
Discovered I
Smokey men with names unrehearsed
In a room full of
A varnished dull black
Labeled " Chimera "
It started with all...
"Someone play the blues"
Vision my tunnel but
Of bare bone skeletal skin wings
Her
Poking swollen stomach
Her
Lion head beneath
Inside tiny eyes
Key on my
Unlock to her open door
Kneel I then and said she
"Nobody warned me about attractive women. Do you think I'm ugly?"
"In a sense no one's beautiful" I said and there,
I Left her
Benjamin Black-Odinma
I watched her rise from a pile of rubble
With wings made of cardboard
Feathers formed from iron and steal
Marred by sullen screws
Remissed
A clunky bird-child excuse for creation
Though something beautiful...
"Where are you going?" I asked
"I can live in trees now..." she said
Grim smile in-tacked
Then I watched her fly upon a delicate branch
A small bird
No bigger than a pebble
Thrown into that vast ocean of sky
But deceitfully heavy there.
As if a man had fallen upon her
Twigs cracked
And maimed bark
The unforgiving tree saw her disappear
Into the cold vastness
Of its erection
II.
She spilled out of the air
From a bowl-full of ASHES
A wing-headed girl
Shaking her feathers with rashness
One eye winking at madness
Singing in the heavy fog of a smarting accent
A song she claimed her mother gave her
Raised to falsetto
With a hint of sadness
Her wings clutched the air like rough hands
And climbed the sky
Toward its peak to stand
"Where are you going?" I asked
"Oh god it’s wonderful to get out!" she said with grin
"And drink too much!"
"And smoke too much!"
"And to love so many goddamn men!"
III.
In her cage
Discovered I
Smokey men with names unrehearsed
In a room full of
A varnished dull black
Labeled " Chimera "
It started with all...
"Someone play the blues"
Vision my tunnel but
Of bare bone skeletal skin wings
Her
Poking swollen stomach
Her
Lion head beneath
Inside tiny eyes
Key on my
Unlock to her open door
Kneel I then and said she
"Nobody warned me about attractive women. Do you think I'm ugly?"
"In a sense no one's beautiful" I said and there,
I Left her
Benjamin Black-Odinma
Metonym
My hands speak
With mouth power
So your mouth
Will open my eyes onto new chapters
Human power
Opens life
Opens nature
Opens violence
There is always hostility
In the open-
Mind
Open heart
Open hands to fight
Good intentions: My invention of sincerity
Invisible to everyone or just you?
I is simply you
Without tears
Without fears
I am I
Simply Soul-pennyless sun
Of english teacher
So vigorous without
" I "
The human power
Within your black thought
Benjamin Black-Odinma
With mouth power
So your mouth
Will open my eyes onto new chapters
Human power
Opens life
Opens nature
Opens violence
There is always hostility
In the open-
Mind
Open heart
Open hands to fight
Good intentions: My invention of sincerity
Invisible to everyone or just you?
I is simply you
Without tears
Without fears
I am I
Simply Soul-pennyless sun
Of english teacher
So vigorous without
" I "
The human power
Within your black thought
Benjamin Black-Odinma
Mother's day
Motherless leads to Otherness leads to
A Requiem Invocation-
“I is more than Son
Maybe what’s keeping her
Sane
A version with a better name
Crushing little girls in
Velvet”
Benjamin Black-Odinma
A Requiem Invocation-
“I is more than Son
Maybe what’s keeping her
Sane
A version with a better name
Crushing little girls in
Velvet”
Benjamin Black-Odinma
Vending Machines
That poet you had beaten
To a pulp and stolen
By KGB
Became a clean Nobel Laureate
Under house arrest
In China
Becomes a word you starve to death
I guess it's hard to decide
What you want when you
have so many choices.
Benjamin Black-Odinma
The Revolution will not be televised
sure, yeah
I know the revolution will not be televised
It will not be witnessed either
Infact
It's happening right now as we speak
even as you read
Inside your heart
and inside my mind
I have no doubt
There will be no large uproar
with mob chantings
There will be no hyms of praise
Nor records reflecting
how the event was carried out
There will be no heroes
There will be no saviors
There will be no hope
The transition will be filled with silence
while your sleeping
It will happen SO fast
that before you realize
what is actually
quite literally
taking place at that moment
you will already have been
changed
The Revolution cannot be televised
It cannot be seen
It cannot be heard
It cannot be smelled
It cannot be corrupted
It cannot be taken for granted either
It cannot be the "end all, be all"
It cannot save you from
Coffee Houses
Cafes
or traffic jams
a 9-5 job at the mini-mart
a job that requires you to file papers
and call phone numbers with extensions
The revolution cannot save you from
Water Cooler conversations
nor getting up at 6 or 7am
on sanday mornings
to calm a screaming
infant
The revolution will make itself known
like a small breeze
quiet whistpers brushing against your cheek...
and it will take place on the eve of a morning
as you lay sleeping still
The effect will cause you to getup out of your bed
and to use the bathroom
The revolution will have no witnesses
will have no heroes
will have no records
nor documentaries
with individuals speaking on
how they played out their parts
For some
the effect will be SO strong
that you might even get something to drink
or a light snack
before retiring back to your room
It's quite possible that the revolution
has already happened to you
if it has
There are counter measures to take
1. Continue to live out your days
as you normally would
As if you'd never seen this message
As if it happened months ago
But I assure you
it hasn't taken effect yet
The revolution will have no witnesses
sure, yeah
I know the revolution will not be televised
It will not be witnessed either
Infact
It's happening right now as we speak
even as you read
Inside your heart
and inside my mind
I have no doubt
There will be no large uproar
with mob chantings
There will be no hyms of praise
Nor records reflecting
how the event was carried out
There will be no heroes
There will be no saviors
There will be no hope
The transition will be filled with silence
while your sleeping
It will happen SO fast
that before you realize
what is actually
quite literally
taking place at that moment
you will already have been
changed
The Revolution cannot be televised
It cannot be seen
It cannot be heard
It cannot be smelled
It cannot be corrupted
It cannot be taken for granted either
It cannot be the "end all, be all"
It cannot save you from
Coffee Houses
Cafes
or traffic jams
a 9-5 job at the mini-mart
a job that requires you to file papers
and call phone numbers with extensions
The revolution cannot save you from
Water Cooler conversations
nor getting up at 6 or 7am
on sanday mornings
to calm a screaming
infant
The revolution will make itself known
like a small breeze
quiet whistpers brushing against your cheek...
and it will take place on the eve of a morning
as you lay sleeping still
The effect will cause you to getup out of your bed
and to use the bathroom
The revolution will have no witnesses
will have no heroes
will have no records
nor documentaries
with individuals speaking on
how they played out their parts
For some
the effect will be SO strong
that you might even get something to drink
or a light snack
before retiring back to your room
It's quite possible that the revolution
has already happened to you
if it has
There are counter measures to take
1. Continue to live out your days
as you normally would
As if you'd never seen this message
As if it happened months ago
But I assure you
it hasn't taken effect yet
The revolution will have no witnesses
Pinnochio's theme
I am your writer
the know
your current generation
your generation Z
I am also your past
and will be your future
baby fan boy of raves and mad men on fire
your novella band-aid
Inside me is a human heart made of glass (break in case of emergency)
guilty of wearing pink
amongst
malevolent black dynasties
and
correcting the grammar
of ghetto scholars
me?
I was born secular
confined to a woman's head
but I came out through her legs
me?
They confined my youth through a woman's eye
but it came out through her fists
where I fed on insight
and grew wings
I am your midnight youth with endless city dreams
and you own the sky
the lost cities of my dawn
the ones I can't get back
But your electric laws
hold a loose translation on my being
and my crooked
and broken
and bleeding existence
is falling through the cracks
where it meets inspiration on time
but shows up late
for everything else
I am your - everything else
your amber ego
your - 25 year old
art cliche
placing
blunts beside
rusted coffee cups
of morality
spending my midnights starving
from books on hindsight
that question Socrates
from street corners?
you crazy dreamers
you beautiful dreamers
Did you know there's also a beautiful and long fraud in nature
with so many punch lines running through it
that it all becomes so funny
And though I'm sick
my mind is a muse
a gold stadium full of guns and girls
just a few seats from the front row
just a metric sick muse fantasy
just another one
Nite Bites
I've been having trouble lately
controlling changes
before those
i barely know
the change hurts
and when i'm fully transformed
i'm swallowed
in a sea of snow
I wake up.
to crumbs of pain
not shallow bruised
but burnt
And though
i sew up the wounds
they still
continue
to hurt
i scratch and itch
until they tear
It's only
when i change
they reappear
And
I destroy anyone
even a friend
when the moon fills up
again.
I hate this
how nobody knows my pain
Because their
the only ones
who I allow
to see this change
until i destroy them
when the moon fills up
again.
Bonus Stage
Lonely lonely
When I was young
secrete heart inside a gun
rumbling wire
drifting alone
amid
blue smoke
skull
and cross-bone
alchemy parts
along a path
to later cast
a spell of flame
that cuts-off Icarus
and hits Apollo
a new-found placement
though dark and errant
shines a light
on path to fame
When I was young
secrete heart inside a gun
rumbling wire
drifting alone
amid
blue smoke
skull
and cross-bone
alchemy parts
along a path
to later cast
a spell of flame
that cuts-off Icarus
and hits Apollo
a new-found placement
though dark and errant
shines a light
on path to fame
18% to eat you
old fantasies
of times when I ate leaves
and was told
to put my hands under my ass
to keep me from touching
what I was really
sitting on
Remember when I said I'd always be a kid?
I don't
but I want to say
I thought that with you
We were a great team
me and you
banana-split gorgeous!
fighting off beggars
and liars
and cheats
and dirty ex-husbands
and saints
Galactic memories
of times when i tried
to eat the leaves
that fell from your bark
tried to taste their journey
over vicious terrain
and their climb
over some of the highest
mountains
recurring dreams
of times when we ate leaves
in the park
beneath the pumpkin moon
And that is how the moon is I thought
A dangling carrot above me
above all of us
down here
But as I was dreaming
I realized you'd already
left
and I was standing alone
eating leaves
tasting their pain
from prodding blunt objects
and being yelled at
like some kind of obscenity
or curse
festering memories
of insanity
When I had to
dry heave thoughts
to create explanations
for exhausting games of tag
and cracked pictures in my head
framed by merry-go-round chases
of parting gifts
from window dreams
knock, knock
whose there?
Waiting...
I held your hand
considerably shorter than you
but we worked...
you trained me well
now what to say?
I've gone off and become something of a metaphor
in your life
no longer bartering jellybeans
for lunchbox specials
or watching
from the wing of foreign walls
as your frowning
gargoyle eyes
release and open
manually
as you speak
fantastically
on staircases
and tight ropes
and think like Fraud
in some grand
light speed manner
I was a
Grissom hero
with a screen door
telling my baby sister to go to sleep
Remember?
When I could
touch the bottom of false beauty so easily
and then quickly
swim to the top
create maps to find that liquid sky
where silent harks of joy
are born to nice guys
and let my Macho confessions punch
a forbidden future
twisted vision
be my demise
I'm beyond competitive backpack expositions now
and
brown bagging lunch
or
Needing assistance to
persecute the philosophy of others
I've run my boyscout muscle ship
into this weird rotten hell
i've got your dance down
and i see myself sometimes
I'll past myself on the train
seated by the window
writing
Eyes glossy
as if
dazed and confused
as if
THINKING about the world around
but unable to see it
I wonder what you're thinking
as young as he is
with as much as he hasn't seen
he writes a great deal
leaning against that universal high
secure in saying nothing but
suspicious or unattended words
I wish him a safe voyage
old fantasies
of times when I ate leaves
and was told
to put my hands under my ass
to keep me from touching
what I was really
sitting on
Remember when I said I'd always be a kid?
I don't
but I want to say
I thought that with you
We were a great team
me and you
banana-split gorgeous!
fighting off beggars
and liars
and cheats
and dirty ex-husbands
and saints
Galactic memories
of times when i tried
to eat the leaves
that fell from your bark
tried to taste their journey
over vicious terrain
and their climb
over some of the highest
mountains
recurring dreams
of times when we ate leaves
in the park
beneath the pumpkin moon
And that is how the moon is I thought
A dangling carrot above me
above all of us
down here
But as I was dreaming
I realized you'd already
left
and I was standing alone
eating leaves
tasting their pain
from prodding blunt objects
and being yelled at
like some kind of obscenity
or curse
festering memories
of insanity
When I had to
dry heave thoughts
to create explanations
for exhausting games of tag
and cracked pictures in my head
framed by merry-go-round chases
of parting gifts
from window dreams
knock, knock
whose there?
Waiting...
I held your hand
considerably shorter than you
but we worked...
you trained me well
now what to say?
I've gone off and become something of a metaphor
in your life
no longer bartering jellybeans
for lunchbox specials
or watching
from the wing of foreign walls
as your frowning
gargoyle eyes
release and open
manually
as you speak
fantastically
on staircases
and tight ropes
and think like Fraud
in some grand
light speed manner
I was a
Grissom hero
with a screen door
telling my baby sister to go to sleep
Remember?
When I could
touch the bottom of false beauty so easily
and then quickly
swim to the top
create maps to find that liquid sky
where silent harks of joy
are born to nice guys
and let my Macho confessions punch
a forbidden future
twisted vision
be my demise
I'm beyond competitive backpack expositions now
and
brown bagging lunch
or
Needing assistance to
persecute the philosophy of others
I've run my boyscout muscle ship
into this weird rotten hell
i've got your dance down
and i see myself sometimes
I'll past myself on the train
seated by the window
writing
Eyes glossy
as if
dazed and confused
as if
THINKING about the world around
but unable to see it
I wonder what you're thinking
as young as he is
with as much as he hasn't seen
he writes a great deal
leaning against that universal high
secure in saying nothing but
suspicious or unattended words
I wish him a safe voyage
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