Hey Mister, Maybe It's Time

Hey mister

Won’t you help me get from A to

B?

Don’t know how to spell

Never had any epiphany

you speak of

haphazardly

Not seeing the cracks in the road

Where we stumble

You say you feel the bomb blasts underground

When you’re bouncing around the hall

In your own world of

XYZ

You say each day is the end times

Well I’m just trying to get from A to

B

Won’t you hold your hand out strong?

I’m tired of pleasantries

We’re not at a gallery

Gazing from portrait to landscape

We don’t know no pleasant trees

No silver mountain peaks

No crescent moons

Just take me one step ahead

Because I’m losing my way

I’ve done tried everything they told me

Going in your direction

Along your destiny

Maybe it’s time

You came over here with me

I Listen to the Rain

I listen to the
rain
sounding
on the
speaker
shuffling tracks
almost forgetting that
these
recordings
capture
droplets
across the age
of the microphone
from who knows where
on what forgotten days
Nature
pours down
sometimes pounding
cacophonously
other times
that gentle rain
all the while
radically
inconveniencing the plans
of picnickers
here
and pompous ceremony
there
and causing
ordinary
disaster
to the ones
sleeping
on the sidewalks
where there are
no
awnings
And cuddled up
on a sofa
to write this poem
I listen
to
the
rain

NOW HERE

What's not here now is what we seek

What's here right now we neglect to meet

What we fear is not yet here

Who we chase is not quite dear