Supermarket Meltdown (Poem)

Truth is the destiny of everyone.

That is the only sure thing.

All else equals nothing because

your lord has no eyes

any more than my feet

have direction in between the toes.


Startled, you wander

the supermarket is teeming with quiet wanderers

just like you


size up an apple, or

douse a tissue in violent nose words.

It could very well be that

they won’t see tomorrow’s sun.

And you might think;

“Well, what’s the difference anyway.

Today’s was round and warm.

That’s all a sun will ever be.”


You’re right.

It comforts us, wrapping our skin in

more than the bruises and veins.

Sun is like mother

with light for the eyes

rays for the smile.


She doesn’t change because she knows

your life will be something you didn’t see coming, young one.

She comes back,


for you.


The market closes.

You step outside,

wash your feet in

fresh misdirection.

You drink from a stubborn glass

wondering how you can really

make a difference in the world?


Then you drench it all in

dusted tears

weary from their own shelf life

recognizing the humanity that

sleeps in the bags of your eyes.


Maybe you should have gotten

an apple as well.


Gardens strive to burst into your ivy eyes

for no more pay than another day.

The water helps, sure.

Water always helps.


But you aren’t a flower.

You keep your petals tightly knit

within the confines of your chest

unable to decide which shade of magenta will be

appreciated most, or

perhaps score you more tickets to the sky.


There is no sky.

Blossom still.

The water will dry.

Blossom. Stretch.

Stretch your calling as you would your arms,

shackled as they may be.


No one cares how many cuff scars you attained over the years

because as long as you can forge a key

you can be your own world.

That comes with some terrible, terrible consequences

but doesn’t it all?


Gardens are eaten and doused in wretched flame.

Still, one day again

it will blossom.


Why can’t you just

burn in the proper direction?


Why so blue,

sleepy bird?


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