Every morning
a new poem
born on the shitter
that place where
time stutters
and thought matters
then drops
into the depths
to fertilize a field of flowers
somewhere far away
in another valley
of another mind.
Tag: work
An Xmas Thought
He works on a train gang
and after work each day
he stands outside the corner store
cigarette and beer in hand
no thoughts of nothing more.
Christmas to him
is just a dream of a few days off
the joy of his child’s smile
for others,
debit cards, crowds, fast cars
as early this morning
he bends over towards
his tired wife
and says,
flesh is all we are.