Sunday, July 9, 2017

Saturday Morning Cartoons




















I remember
Saturday morning cartoons,
unreturned kisses,
unfulfilled love,
imaginary dances, danced
under imaginary moons,
lovers who never knew,
futures planned
without a chance,
messages sent
but never received;
even now,
I still remember
cold city streets,
dark and empty,
calling out,
I go there sometimes
on nighttime journeys,
traveling among the living
and the dead,
always waiting,
never knowing,
forever seeing;
I hear their anger,
I touch their fear,
I see their rage,
like trapped animals
with no escape,
slashing out
with the only power they possess,
the only pleasure
they know,
the cold steel blade,
sliding in to the bone,
the warm, sweet liquid,
flowing out
onto the concrete world.
.

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