An Abandoned Neighbor
Some days you believe I am a savior
You blaze at my table with the desire
to know why you must suffer.
You wonder what you have done to deserve
the desertion of your family.
You believe you are a wheel made of bone
and irregular turns.
The visions behind your ribcage are outdated
and lacking in direction.
You accomodate yourself to a species
and discover yourself ambushed by lonliness.
My cells trip over themselves in listening.
My hearing is held in bondage.
Each day I feel your heart crash
in a blaze of wreckage.
I stroke you with words.
Several miles away, the ambulance,
is stalled in traffic.