how I became homeless (like always)

mid-conversation,

I ran out of reasons to speak,

and, like always,

they stared at me

with street-dog eyes,

waiting, for my blackholes

to turn back into ATMs,

but, like always,

by the time I reemerged

from my hollowed pith,

they had all become

frigid and faceless

shadows, hidden

behind their faux finish

smiles, and love flavored

arsenic pecks; fiery ghosts

of yesterday, peeping

from behind their timepiece

revolvers & tombstone

forevers, with no recollection

of the lives we’d been

dissecting as a group

just a few decades back.

so, here I am,

juggling unmatched organs

and hybrid souls

like chainsaws and grenades.

put some change in the cup,

I’m saving up for a ticket;

I’m going to hijack

the next bus back to Normal.

Reviews

[roarke]

good luck with all that.... lol. Normal, I think it was the figment of some poor deluded soul's imagination.
The opening statement: "mid-conversation" says it all.
Homeless takes on a whole new definition.
We all take leaps and bounds in this existence, most don't get it though, trying to look at it through a plodding connect the dots literalness, but the ones who see the leaps, dare make a jump themselves... ah, those are the ones that left home for the 'unusual' journey.
post-conversation