Moon between Palms

the moon?

but a keyhole

to another room,

which awaits

our arrival—

whenever.

Echo Park, 2020

Healing

Like a child sent to his room

I’m stuck staring, blindly

thinking about what I’ve done.

Because I’m still healing, I mean

it’s really no excuse except to acknowledge how

I’m just like everyone…

As they wonder.

We
don’t
genuinely
love
the stranger
on the corner,
on the television,
at work,
on the daily news.

We
get
used
to them
like they
get used to us,
to being liked,
to being lied to,
to being accepted.

We
wonder
why they
have it so good,
why we can’t quite get it straight,
why the stranger
on the corner, can’t get his act together,
why the camera’s won’t turn off,
we wander as they wonder.

As they wander, we wonder.