Unscrupulous Treasure
Bus stop
Passing voices
Predisposed to place
Arranged in pieces
Migrant reflections
Coming to the fold
Of my greater experience
Herd of voices
Hovering and drifting
Waxing traces
Of what-could-be
And what should’ve been
Sounding as trumpets
For the cause of serendipity
what poem does this play bring?
What shall be the conjunction
Of me and my perceiving
Traces of conversation
From my fellow man?
My eyes can’t see
What
I was meant to be
By this captivity
Bound by my own leash
And a stage
Who do I ask
where to go
if I am invisible?
My body sucks life
From itself
Translating knowledge
Into words
Spitting dissonance
with what is
and what is supposed to be
I am not supposed to be here
not bodily
I should be flying through a field
Swimming with a current
Nosing for grubs
My body intends to do
But my mind has claimed ownership
Like an unscrupulous man
Who takes possession
Of another person’s treasure
“Get off your seat and become
For me!”
It shouts incessantly
While my body
Reaches contentedly
for low hanging fruit