A Day

Going through the day as if it’s endless;
looking—always looking—just beyond.
Blinders on, senses off,
trudging, oblivious to the sun.
And there it goes, somewhere else,
the same day, out of sight.
A thought crosses, reaching—
arms extended, fingers clasping
at the air.

If only an awareness of the littleness of it,
elsewhere:
a fridge opening, legs stretched over coffee table,
the door unlocking one more time.
The familiar hum of a TV almost muted,
head turning, a familiar face sighs,
a greeting grunted and a nod.

Listless and looking, out at the city,
from the backseat of another cab:
the underside of a bridge, mouths muted by the glass,
and then a cloud.

If thoughts could bind us, we’d be together then,
strewn across the day, on different faces of the earth.
But thoughts remain solitary, drifting
yet resonant;
and for now, again,
make do.

Lesser Creatures

Splayed
before you,
pluck them, the stars,
one after the other
from me.
For such things of brilliance
do not belong
in a soul so dark.

We are lesser creatures,
you and I,
from those up there.
And yet this beast in me
will not make peace
with its lower self.
It beats
at the cages of my being,
tight and ragged,
and raging.