Featuring Jack Henry

fatigue 

i’ve been hiding for so long now. 

and i am tired. 

 

i am tired of the hate and violence 

as i peek out from behind my pink chiffon curtains, 

sheers, really. just enough to hide 

the truth. 

 

i am tired of the voices and perceptions 

that are not mine but they are mine 

and i have not the strength 

to hold them deep within my skin. 

 

i am tired of walking down the staircase 

to the front door, to the car door, 

to the freeway, to the place in the 

shadows where i tremble in fear. 

 

i am tired of his indifference, the repetition 

in his movements, the sound he makes 

when he is finished, the taste of his 

lips before he sends me on my way. 

 

i am tired of sounds and screams, 

of being blind, of being alone 

here in the deep recess of who 

i will never truly be. 

vehemence 

she lingers still 

in the back of my mind 

as i take his passion 

and beg for his violence 

and lay lost in my own fascination 

inching toward the grave 

sometimes i think of her as i try to sleep on my leaper’s bed 

eyes slowly close, body aches, tremor through aging neurons 

her face smiling as she speaks in a whisper telling me 

that we should be friends, just friends, and nothing more 

and i pursued her for three years, just as i pursue her now 

in memory and in dreams 

sorrow 

i’m restless 

angry 

something is not right 

askew 

 

the sky is dark 

winds fearless 

demanding attention 

birds scramble 

lions roar and fall 

mothers clutch babies 

to their bosom 

 

it’s April 

nearly May 

i’m lonely 

empty 

emotionally dead 

trembling 

 

a tire needs replacing 

i fired my gardener 

i am the gardener 

vines climb through windows 

 

i am quiet 

everyone is screaming 

i have no purpose 

i am just dead weight 

 

ballast for a voyage 

one without return 

death knell 

never more so than today 

have i felt my soul 

torn away from me. 

the demon gods of 

corporate greed and avarice 

circle around me 

littering sotted silver 

and gold coins 

at my feet, 

whispering lies 

about caring, 

about fairness, 

about ethical  

treatment of all 

humanity, 

when all we do 

is hammer the coffins 

shut and dance  

naked around a fire.