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a poem by John Grochalski (1 of 2)
we, the damned
the cross-eyed man
sits alone on the bus
he's talking to someone in spanish
elsewhere they are preparing
to remove people from their homes
or from their jobs
some countries torture with violent force
others with passive debate and benevolent gestures
we, the damned
we're mendacious to the core
gauche blobs of flesh most of the time
we're just no good to each other
the cross-eyed man
he hangs up the phone
it was a bad phone conversation
he stares off into the distance
searching for something
out on the street
i want to ask him what it is that he sees
but he opens his phone again and dials
there's someone else
to talk to now
sits alone on the bus
to remove people from their homes
or from their jobs
others with passive debate and benevolent gestures
gauche blobs of flesh most of the time
we're just no good to each other
he hangs up the phone
searching for something
out on the street
but he opens his phone again and dials
to talk to now
© by John Grochalski
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #9 ~ May 2010
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