Changing Channels

Changing Channels

Is this what it’s like to be God?

Sitting on a threadbare sofa,

Click… click… click…

Click… click-ing through channels

And watching the universe unfold

On a hazy television screen?

God Dammit!

God Dammit!

You lazy bastard;

Incurable time-waster;

Discontinue your

Existence of nothingness…

Go out there and do something!

Discarded One

Discarded One

Abandoned despot,

Living in a garbage can,

Wonders where his life has gone.

Used to be someone

Worthy of being counted,

But now… just soiled refuse.

Dying in a Dream

Dying in a Dream

I lie on the simmering asphalt.

Warm vitality drips unsympathetically 

From this mortal piercing

And coldness lazily oozes over me

Like the slow trickle of melting ice.

I lie, the observer of a still-life portrait;

Of houses, of hills, of sunset…

I can see them all,

Falling further and further

Beyond my grasp; becoming unfocused.

I lie and wait for the grim finale…

When existence fades to black.

The Night Was Moist

The Night Was Moist

Tuesday morning wakeup call,

Winds howling, windows rumbling;

Shake me from an unsteady

Slumber…

Raindrops shatter upon my glass

While the end circles around me;

Sleepily, I pull my boots up

And stumble out into the chaos-

Darkness…

To see what all the fuss is about.

Dodged That Bullet

Dodged That Bullet

“Fare thee well,” she said,

Overdramatic hands, raised,

Flailing like ravens in flight.

“We might have been magical,

But that was a fantasy…

A childish dream.”

She disappeared through

An old, sagging door; it creaked

Closed in the face of a man.

He paused and gathered himself,

Counting cracks in the portal…

His smile growing.