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Author: Michael Angelo
-
Rolling by the Window…
It’s the blur of things, the
leaning shoulder against the window
of a bus speeding past
rebellion running on a slick street in
in the form of a young guy and girl seeking
to find themselves
in the folds of the other
strangers in a rumbling city
of gold disguised as a dude buzz-cutting
a homeless man’s hair for free, for
life, liberty, and the pursuit of
a God whose empty throne looms
unbaptized by storm clouds
like a tree in a desert
whose sap feeds the children. -
Delusions of Insignificance
There’s so much beauty in the World
that is infected by the psychotic desire
to turn everything into the mundane.The Sun itself would be spliced and quartered
into neat chunks of comfort, if people had their way—
I mean, how else could we buy
into the illusion of immortality?I like squirrels; I like the trees they climb even more.
Both know that when Winter rolls in,
it deserves the respect of dying.
