The ends of his fingers
stroke the keys as he
tries again.
Oh to dance again,
to run again,
to simply
flow down the
stairs
again,
oh to play second base again,
he thinks.
Millions of dead planets revolve
around millions of stars, and he
want’s so much to matter.
In leau of that he’d
settle for
second base
again.
***
Thoughts of burning art again
To have placed any value in it
seems quaint tonight
a simple fire without ceremony
is all that is needed really
just call it collateral damage
no one will notice
anyway
Vincent had the chance
he blew it
and now they gather
around these pieces of his fabric
like they are lives to be saved somehow
while the children play with the depleted uranium
***
What is your dream?
You have to follow that.
That is what is important,
it’s not education,
it’s not job,
it’s the dream.
It’s something to fall asleep with
every night of your life.
A life which matters
only through love and dreams.
My dream is this.
Today I did this toward my dream.
Now I can sleep
a poet’s sleep
***