Quode Vide (Which See): Vicious Pseudo-Philosophic Circle

Nothing needs
Something with which to see, 

Something more visceral
Than nothing, something 

One can eviscerate all
The way past 

Nothing, you see? 

 

 

Good Grief, Charlie Brown!

 

What was it
We had to face
Every day? Let me see— 

For starters there was
The same old sun,
The moon,
The stars,
The bittersweet feel
Of coarse earth under bare feet. 

The main course was grin and bear it
Of course, though it wasn’t
All that bad in the end,
And one thing more
Just for the record—

Insecure brats we may have been,
But we knew for sure
Tomorrow would always be
A brand-new day!

 

 

Luddite Aporia On Desolation Row

Dear God, have a heart— 
How bare this

Wretched sandlot looks;
Where are all those

Ragtag tatterdemalion holy
Terrors that once played

Their ragged hearts out?
Scroll down your answer—

I know you know, stop
Tearing me apart.

 

 

 

A Musing Marquee Muse

Flighty one, wait
Long enough to see 

Your name in lights,
And you’ll miss 

Every curtain call
Save the last 

Dance for me,
Hack. 

 

 

Codex With Well-worn Lacunae

 

Leaf through these
Moth-eaten pages
At your leisure if you will; 

Just make sure you
Leave no holes, no
Blanks and no 

New leaf turning
Over one more over-worked
Turning point of no 

Return after another,
You got that?
Good. 

 

 

 

Poet's Unresolved Burden Of The Heart

Never a light task
To put down 

Whatever dark matter is
Grieving you— 

Heavier even the thought
Of how to carry it out.