Spotlight

If you think and hurt
long enough
does your antennae finally wake up
alive to signal and
nuance?

You: esconced in pain and dearth
of all things living
except the beat
of your own heart.

Poor girl,
lost her guts somewhere
spilled them out in the gutter
and brains too
mush, long gone maze.

It's pish all of this anyway -
pass that over here, my turn -
removal vans and boxes
she never did learn; suck and

blow; stop looking
places of safety
bruised knees
pleas to God go unheard
these days -

he's sick of manifold
transgressions
how the centuries blur into
one year's
millenium turn
as if it mattered -

and we're all reborn
and we never learn
from filth and silt
all doings of the hands.

So, scan the room girl,
scan it - anyone worth knowing
here?

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