the daily process of survival

in the muddy redbrick downtown  

of my muddy redbrick soul

dogs sing yesterday’s blessings to the whorish moon

childlike eyes smile from every surface

and wild-tongued harlots dance on the rooftops

like restless vultures waiting for something to die

 

a walking dead man rethinks every breath he ever took

laughs, sadly, at the origin of scars

and the frayed ends of his starriest moments

 

red sunrise to his right, purple sunset to his left

and blooms of every flower dancing on his distended belly

 

he decides, as he sits down on his tombstone

that happiness is more in the smell of the food

than the eating

 

love is the perfect silhouette that is always dancing

on the other side of the impenetrable shade

 

and forever is just the time it takes

to get from one unmarked door to the next

 

on my better days

he and I do shots of lightning

watch sheep fall from the edge of Creation

and dream of a place

beyond the unrequited pains and hungers

of life

 

we flirt with the ledge

run our toes over the Great Chasm

even feign unbalanced stumbles

to break up the monotony

of a boring, steadfast appearance

 

 

but, we both fear

that there is nothing waiting to catch us

when we fall

 

and, we both know too well

that, eventually

everything falls