Modern Life (Poem by Me)

So I said, “Oh, that I had wings like a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest.
Indeed, I would wander far off,
And remain in the wilderness. Selah
 I would hasten my escape
From the windy storm and tempest.” (Psalm 55:6-8)

Super-sonic phantasmagoria flashes fantasies of

Mannequins walking on silver-grey streets

This sickly, brash Kirchner stabs my jackal-headed heart and

Invites me to crunch down on silver-grey nails

The temptation to burrow into my own being

To simply dive behind friendly cracked brick walls and

Become a still, round, white cacoon, rotating

Around my own dazzling, intangible sphere

Invites like sick black chocolate. I can’t just

Nestle into my little nook, crook old man, hiding

In my pretty petty little earth. Don’t care

About the shafts of fragile, vile glass, drafting me into the right place

In the world. After all, I’m not alone.