Doppelgänger Complex

It’s true 

We are dying 

To know whether 

 

We all have 

A dead-ringer out 

There somewhere, one 

 

That doesn’t know 

Who or where 

We are either, 

 

Nor whether we shall 

Ever meet, to say 

Our long-overdue hellos, 

 

Then go gently on our way, 

Richer with the knowledge 

That nothing’s impossible, 

 

Even the incredible 

Occurrence of our own 

Birth that one fateful day. 

 

 

 

Accommodation

 

Poems fit everywhere, 

Save the heart 

 

Of the heartless. 

 

 

 

All Or Nothing Hardball Capitalist At Work

 

No sucker, you look 

A lot like you have what 

It takes, so take 

 

All you can get 

And more, as the nil no-name 

Lopsided have-nots still have plenty 

 

Of nothing in store— 

Keep sucking them dry 

Till you up and even 

 

The desired score. 

 

 

 

A Poem Should Be (26)

 

More or less, whatever 

You want it to be or not 

 

To be but never 

Meaning less, more 

 

Like life itself, if you know 

And you should 

 

Know what I mean. 

 

 

 

Cutting Edge Eventide Augury

 

evening’s 

waxing

 

blood 

crescent 

moon— 

 

to 

morrow’s 

over- 

flowing 

 

sickle