when in doubt.

Playing solitaire by the water,

watching the clouds move over the game,

watching the sun fade away.

The weather is calm;

the souls are at rest today.

The people are watching 

from below

as well as above.

    

Cards are running low,

the deck is getting thin.

The day is fading away without me.

Golden bows

blast open the doorways

to unforeseen manifestations.

The stars and the moon arrive.

The soul is awakened by a purpose,

and then quickly runs out of ideas.

Nothing lasts forever.

         

Night comes,

making it hard to see

characters and playgrounds

bargained by jack’s and ace’s.

The joker, a trickster and a prophet,

reminds us

that there is always a truth within a lie

and some lies help to make us feel better.

dead letters for living people

office space.

The blinds sway

in manufactured warm, dry, air.

A hard drive echoes out an existence

through its motorized hum

of gears and circuitry..

          

It pitches then it falls.

Car alarms being heard

from a great far off distance,

ringing menacingly in a whisper

as an insulated call from the outside.

     

It’s beginning to rain again.

Drip, drip, drip, goes the window pain.

Frequently pacing,

methodically counting each and every step,

pausing when some pair

of counter steps walks past.  

I was intimately aware

of the people around me.

          

They are the inheritors

of the Magic Kingdom,

on an open road oblivion

that’s calling its disciples home.

               

The heat from our bodies creeps

 through vents in the ceiling,

 mingling with stars in the sky.

                    

I think I hear them falling.

dead letters for living people