Writing

The fluids are slushing through my veins, 

Creeping through my blood, through my thoughts, 

Through each word I speak. 

A random Stranger saw me smiling in a cafe and took a picture of me

A nice one at that

For weeks, that Stranger would follow me home at night 

Cards are slapped down,

Hands meet over the pile,

Words that sound like hate from an outside ear,

Sound like love to me.

A flabbergasting victory,

Seldom a sorrow filled loss,

We, 

Humanity, 

Failed; 

We allowed,

All knowledge, 

All language, 

T0 be lost; 

Be better than us, 

Do not follow the dumb, the rich, the bias, 

Familiar is this earthly language, these archives full to the brim. 
It must be how the world got magic, these rhymes of life and limb.

The four gas stations on each of the corners

Hover over the town,

But they don’t define it.

It doesn’t define us,

Neither does the churches

With clipped voices and narrowed eyes.