Resident

I can feel pain now. When I was fourteen
scraped knees and tattoo needles
meant nothing, hangovers were non-existent
sleep was for pussies. Suddenly,
I drink beer for the taste, fall asleep
after two or three cold ones, television
just reminds me how poor I really am
and I can't read books without turning on a light.
Last night I even contemplated
calling the police on the noisy kids downstairs
throwing yet another party
without inviting me.
©1996

The 24 Hour Mall

the walls of this room close in
eternal, shadows banished under the glare
of flourescent blue light tubes, killing
the natural order of colors--everything is just
different shades of day.
I long to crash through the glass and fade
into the night.

fake smiles mask the wicked thoughts of the crowd
that plod endlessly through the corridors
of this New Church, business as usual
means keep smiling, don't you dare
think. "Can I help you?" brainwash mantra
eternal on my lips. I long
to break through the crowd, this wave
of cold bodies, a zombie barricade between me
and the peaceful
dark night.

©1996

The Rain

Faceless masks, zombies stalking
the coffee machine, anything,
anything to stay awake--their eyes mirror
the storm clouds rolling outside
the sun blotted out.

But I just want to go outside and play in the rain, put on
my huge rubber coat and Splash! in the puddles, chase
the birds pulling up worms, ruffled feathers bright and all shiny
glorious mud filling up every tread in bright yellow boots.

Clockwork soldiers, marching back
and forth, from desk
to restroom to desk--mor coffee
beginning hail batters the plexiglass
and sets off car alarms.

But I just want to go out and play in the rain, to
take off my clothes and dance, run through the sparkling grass
chase off the rabbits that stand staring so placid
at such a wonderful thing as the rain!

©1996