January 3, 2025Poem
I will keep busy.
naturecitytimeidentitymortality
I will keep busy.
It is time for bed.
I miss you, Kora.
The air is thick
With suffocation
An appetite sated
Before dawn
Mosquitoes
Have eaten the sun
Which splutters
To defend itself
Until the bottom drops out
Of its existence
A policeman
Directs traffic
When the lights fail
He is made of a lightweight material
A hopeless throwback
To bobbies on bikes
Whatever happened to the peelers?
Oranges are not
The only thing
To lose their zest
In the drain of high humidity
My feet sink
Into the ground
With a lack of solidarity
Everything moves further away
The shimmer
Is a mirage
If I wish hard enough
I will make it
To the end
Of the page.
Seeing through
The gaps in the story
Is part of the reason
I have maintained
An interest
In life
What else is there?