waiting your turn

Waiting Your Turn

The secrets
of exorcism.


The extraction
of information
& longing
from tear
ducts &
broken hearts.


A triumph
of technology.


The scattered
remains of
the Industrial
Revolution the
plowed fields
of Feudalism.


It fits
together like
a dream
in a
frontal lobe
like the
notes of
a lullaby.


Bye-bye blackbird
the agents
sing &
down comes
the door.


No time
to kiss
baby goodbye
no time
to put
your pants
on off
you go
in the
unmarked car.


The neighbors
will never
know what
happened
until it’s
their turn.

Leave a Comment

Filed under poems & short jabs

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *