Lines Composed Mere Footsteps from Misery

Suckssssss . . .


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
Lines composed mere footsteps from misery
A perfect autumn day in Portland
a man lays in urine and beer
eyes wide to the noontime sun
choking on a cigarette stub
today’s war is much like yesterday’s war,
tomorrow’s war--innocents scalded out
of life’s illuminated manuscript
for lunatic reasons--oil, cash, geo-
political advantage, project for a new
american century--lunatic reasons
I pause near the man laying in urine and beer
and all I think of is how I regret not
bringing my notebook and pen
so I could scrawl this shitty poem
meanwhile geese fly joyfully south
and like Forest Gump’s girlfriend
I wished I were a bird so I could fly
Far away from here--
meanwhile more indigenous humans
are being erased by the bulldozers
and bombs of progress.
I smell burning leaves, it’s sixty degrees,
a perfect autumn day in Portland
the man laying in urine and beer
groans a question but I’m gone
to write this poem and the poor
traumatized world spins
crazy like yesterday and tomorrow
neither I nor any of my friends are bothered
business, busy-ness, madness, normal