No One at His Back

A middle age man sits

     in a crowded restaurant

His back to the wall

     his eyes looking

For a restful spot

     away from the chaos

Memories of sitting behind

     a wall on guard

With no one at his back

     or to the right and left

Curiously exposed he knows

     he is more sacrifice

Than protection

The increase of noise brings

     him back to the present

And forces his eyes

     toward the door

Too much, he must escape

     bidding curt farewells

He rushes through a maze

     to the door

Outside he relaxes

     just a bit

But his eyes still roam

     looking for threat

His back still itches

     waiting for an attack

That will never come

Florescent Black Plastic

I look through thick panes
At the world, who not noticing
The bulky frames and mullions
Or florescent black plastic guarantied
To prevent pregnancy and sexual assault
But oddly, no one seems to notice
The glaring from my face
I remove the frames and panes
Turning the world to fuzzy softness
To squint at what is now
Just a pair of blocky, black glasses
And put them on again
To see
That no one really cares
But me

We are Only

The hardest distance across the line
Comes from the ancient test of dignity
Versus honesty with contempt
For the lies we tell ourselves
Regarding who we are and the 
Values we disregard so that
We can place ourselves as being
Better than the rest of the world
As we attempt to hold them down
With self righteousness that we are only
'Doing it for their own good'

Muse's Angel

The angel stood over my bed

Curly ebony hair cascading over her shoulders

Her eyes glassy bludgeons

And with her lips she moulded fire

'You are to do as you are bidden'

Her voice rang through my head

Though only a wisp of flame passed her lips

'The Muse has sent me

She will not deal so lightly again'

The angel vanished and left me with blindness

From the radiance protecting me from her fire

I tripped out of bed and crawled

Until I found a table with paper and pen

And I scribbled, blind:

To whom I must serve

Amusement Clouds

Talking about objects being dragged along the floor
Only leads to a distraction of a haggard face
Blowing bubbles into distant clouds for the amusement
Of large children with wrinkled faces
Racing wheelchairs in a dark park
Across from hell's gates