Wednesday, August 27, 2014

mad world

the old year unfolds for me
like a shit-stained rose
and on the elevated d train
i look into blue homes
at the debris of humankind
at the playpens of screaming children
and television sets
the empty couches and soiled beds
the families huddled over dinner
over gadgets that offer them better than flesh
their only true hope to rise tomorrow
and once again say hello to the cancerous sun
i watch this
and i think of myself as a mad youth
in college student unions of my dirty memory
writing mad words
meant to take over this mad world
and failing
having it arrive too late
to truly save the gray man looking back at me
in the subway window
who once challenged himself
to be immortal
but will now have to settle
for being just like
everyone
else.
 
--John Grochalski

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