June

The heresies and faith

I mumble under my breath,

the debris that's left

after nightmare's theft,

the horrors and fantasies

siphoned off the screens

of many sizes,

the screams so easily

muted with a thumb

on the touch screen

or remote. What are they

looking at or for?

What need what fear what whimsy

lives at the intersection

of who am I and what for?

Ask the eyes and ears

of satellites looking down at us

from heights somewhat

closer to the ground

than God was ever found.

I heard a beautiful soprano

singing out a window over

the 7-11 on Main. The one

next to the Taco Bell

where the doorway sleepers

look to score the remains

of half eaten burritos

or the last sips of a Coke.

My lighter was expired

and I must always have

my own personal, portable,

source of fire,

so I went inside

to get a new Bic to flick,

the color doesn't matter,

red or green or blue

as the pixels on my phone.

Lit up a classic Camel

as I passed the park

where the alien parrots

whirled from tree to tree

screaming their joys

-or jealousies

on this gray June morning.