Train slumped. Paper read.
Indiscriminate judgment
judged as crap.
But still compassion leaks for those
judged as crap.
But still compassion leaks for those
who’s stories come to light
like poorly fired pots,
cracked glaze and empty of
cracked glaze and empty of
the best intentions of the hands
who set them as soft clay on
the spinning wheel.
who set them as soft clay on
the spinning wheel.
Why buy a paper for diversion?
There’s enough world here for that.
Enough sorrow in the window,
framing a reflection strip lit against
retreating dusk.
retreating dusk.
And enough good news in the drained cups
and novels set aside for bedside tables,
somewhere West away, near sea
and salt spit shackle shell walks
that shoes tired of city puddles
dream to take their feet too.
and novels set aside for bedside tables,
somewhere West away, near sea
and salt spit shackle shell walks
that shoes tired of city puddles
dream to take their feet too.
And though I know the hacks
are crouched in cubicles
only to pay their way,
and school hopeful kids enough
to earn the unquenchable wants
of the supplements,
are crouched in cubicles
only to pay their way,
and school hopeful kids enough
to earn the unquenchable wants
of the supplements,
I can’t help but wonder why they bother
fueling a hamster wheel in a cage
where the door is always open.
fueling a hamster wheel in a cage
where the door is always open.
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