I.
Hiding in the corridors of yesterday
Wearing the rags of his own undoing
In a state of bubbles with glass diamonds bouncing
Inside his head an image of starvation
makes it impossible to cross the road.
All this talk about saving an abandoned school
Has left him unable to forgive
The uncanny persuasion of voting.
Meanwhile all around him
The schools where real children huddle in learning
Flake in decay from selective mismanagement.
A shadow grips his teeth.
Hollow reincarnations speed past
As a school bus spews diesel
As a plastic bag lies gently at his feet.
The cheap coffee has made him a zombie.
Yet again quitting everything is tiring his soul.
II.
Breaking
To walk through this abandoned school
With or without the right set of keys
He feels like a stranger missing an odd shoe.
Noticing on the blackboard someone
Long ago scrawled
Friendship can be a pain
That rarely goes away.
He stumbles forward
Up and down gum stained stairs
Past benches and desks stacked higher than
Our new clock tower.
He picks up a needle and begins to stitch —
Clarity whispers.
III.
Back on the street
Organic suntan lotion
Replaces the December snow.
This Yule night is not so much
About being sucked into commerce
More like how can I numb desire?
Instantly recognizing each other as faceless facts
It seems we lynch ourselves with tattoos and lipstick
And in the baggage of our own eyes
Forgotten luggage and tongues lick open wounds
With the common complaint of
Parking! Parking! Parking!
For such a place all about getting back to nature
Where are all the footpaths, toadstools and elves?
IV.
As always
Too much is never enough
Back home
A flashlight passes over
A few twigs creak.
Undisturbed he stitches some more —
Written down words often require
Written down violence.
A dead school lives on
As a living school dies.
Politics be damned!
Sometimes the more civilized we are
the more we forget civilization.
