Rolling Through Intersections

We May Never…

I’m negating ‘fake’ in my offices — for the un-persuasive (special goggles of experience find you)

Hot Mic (radio or live theatre reference)
Voices Of The People (Nay to Sheeple…but come around *waves in* would-be infil-traitors!)

On a soap box
Mic hot — so hot I might drop
But look at this audience —
Squint, but you can’t see
Nobody like me —
Nobody but me,
Preferring acoustic

Over there, now that —
That’s a sound ‘stage’ where it plays
Suckers hip bump the auditorium platform
Sing along like it’s gospel…

Mindless, forget
Centuries of good logic —
Logic I lived and breathed
Until built is a coliseum shadowing all humanity
Paid with tax payer’s tithings
Renamed by ticket kings
Who’ll not allow scalping
unless institutional factors their printed money
To buy another seat yet in a bright, bright sea
Of mediocrity

I could wire
Miles of cable through your streets,
But who am I — but one
Living in disregard (and not regarded)
Which is more than enough
While still my love of game
That reared a boy into poet-hood — infinite

I hear you rocking and reeling at night
Cool air surrounds my stoop
Soothed by the notion
Love is out there — somewhere

Spirits in the night could multiply
But they won’t allow it
If the tickets sold don’t profit the licensed
Music purveyors who say
Get your own venue — but
Prohibit you anyway

Are you enjoying the hollow sounds
Bled of warmth?
Do you wake up feeling you need
Another fix?
Give yourself a chance
I offer a soap box
Get a mic that’s hot
At your favorite intersection
Play your love without amplitude to no one
But your desire
And find yourself, if none other

I would support you
I am loyal
I serve nothing
I’m a good provider

Your statements are missing
The mic is hot
You just have to trust you —
Whatever the venue
If run out of there, heaved to land
Next to me, on the seats of our pants —
Let’s dust our butts
Walk our love to any other place and time
Let it unwind —
Two poets — linked — seeking
Voices of the people.

A five minute, hot write
2x longer to edit
Found ‘gospel’ auto-corrected to ‘gossip’… irony?

7.4.25
It’s easy to metaphorically compose. Transcribe? Relate?
It’s okay, no matter where you're stuck

My poem is arriving

Cast down a long avenue to nettle
With other enmeshed captors
Biding time in the late seasons
We might speak the same language
With our preferred words

Did you see mine (words) post,
Tacked to the neighbor’s fence
They’ll turn on the hose, setting free me
Before I dry and float again
And see, here we are!

The gales return. We separate
But never worry when another friend comes
But soon — in any form
Amid the plastic replicas
Decorating the old woman’s yard.

Four minutes…Next?
1x to edit…easy-peasy
7.4.25



Laugh, while laughing is easy…

Dip a toe in the kiddie pool today. Live a little. Otherwise…
Pets might hold some of life’s mysteries where kinship fails you.

I’m getting one more to reveal themself in the coming days…but how, Brian? You’re just acoustic and a negated deficit.