Sunday, June 10, 2007

Anything below a dollar

Anything below a dollar

A fifty-cent coin lies
in a shallow drain
dipped in spit, mud
and cigarette butts;

a ten-cent coin fallen
between a water pipe
and wall grows mossy
blue and green and dull;

a five-cent coin sinks
to the bottom of a
toilet bowl where flushes
will never flush it away;

those who lost them say
it’s no big deal, not worth
the trouble of rescuing
from the disgusting places
of filth, disease,
decomposition.

It’s far more common to see:
one-cent copper colored coins
lying on a clean street,
trampled on unnoticed;

even if they have been noticed,
at the instant of recognition
for how little they represent,
they are walked over,
passed over, not worth
any kind of trouble at all.

Friday, June 8, 2007

Lunch

Lunch

Unfinished lines
tired old topics

fractured facts
and skewed views

we stare
down

at our food,
unable
to think of

anything else
to share
other than

gossip
as vicious as
the curry is spicy.