Watching The Condensation Seep Into The Desk

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Watching the condensation seep into the desk
I think of the glories that have gone away
The ice melting/mixing into my single malt
I’ve been nervous, but I’m okay by the end of the day

These days weren’t the ones we’ve been dreaming of
Idealistic thoughts when we were on foreign shores
Imagining celebrities dancing in their formalwear
Fancy & festive role models displayed forevermore

Upon the big screen & locked into our minds
Americana lost & the golden age of Hollywood
Stoking the passion of our fervid imaginations
Inspiring our dreams like nothing else ever could

Our hopes & desires abandoned & hung out to dry
March realizations our fantasies are mere celluloid
The cold night, withering on the streets alone
Upon the credits, leaving the theater broke & into the void

I’m Seeking A Truth

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

I’m seeking a truth within these fragmented words

My thoughts won’t cooperate with how my fingers move

Typing on this old handmedown machine to transform

My mundane existence into a magical, deliberate groove

I am not afraid to expose the flesh of a wilted soul

There are no heroes in these parts, just broken misanthropes

Internalizing the segmented society & all the villains

Returning to coffee so black the void regains precious hope