I. 
No smoking, food, or drinks allowed in this area.
Don't offend me.  Keep your distance.
Hold your white trash filth away from me.
I don't want to know.


II. 
Do you find my smile mocking?  Amendable?
Knowing or ignorant?  Open or secretive?
Does it fade into the background, or cause you to stumble?
Is it directed outward, or at myself?
Do I know?  Maybe.
I won't tell.


III. 
My teacher taught me "1 + 1 = 2."
But the song says "1 and 1 make 1."
I'm not sure.
It's all a little bit abstract to me.
I think that I'm one, and you're one,
and everybody is one,
But I think we'd all best stay separate.
That seems safe.
And maybe, you can come over and play.


IV.
Class is over;
Time for a Coke.
I leave the building,

smell the blackened asphalt pavement
    hear the crunch of broken gravel
       taste the clogging fumes of a passing truck.

I try to sense the Earth beneath my feet
But there is too much in between:
    rigid poured concrete
    padded rubber soles
    freshly darned socks.

Besides, I fear the ground below 
    would be too smothered to answer
             too trampled to care
    left blinded by lack of the sun.

How have we come to bury the Earth?
I turn back
    retreat from the sight
    reject the scarred blight
    revile our wrought plight;

I hide within the air conditioning and
Drink water instead.


V.
A touch, a breath,
a wayward smile--
What gloomy thoughts pervade
that charming outward guile.

Her rigid brow
how can she laugh?
Her jaws so tightly clench--
her teeth so brightly flash!


VI.
I see a refuge in the night
A home for boys and girls
Whose parents did them grievous harm
And tortured little squirrels.

This refuge teaches many things
Among them how to chill
And coldly sneak up on their Mum
To ready for the kill.

A lesson that it does not teach
Is how forgiveness works;
But what use, love, in this cold world
So full of scum and jerks?


VII.
A shade of grey
  upon my eyes
Now who can say
  what thoughts I hide?

Or mirrored tears
  instead of black
Your eyes can't pierce
  they just stare back.

Which 'ere I choose
  withdrawn from all
My heart obtuse
  maintain my wall.


VIII.
Death and Dying
Twin, despised,
each obscured by
haze of lies.

Time drifts by
   unaware
Sees our struggles
   doesn't care
From birth to death
   always there
Never pausing
   isn't fair


IX.
It's a nameless condition
Has no well-known sign
Less a thought than a feeling
Yet I know it's mine

It's the fleeting emotion
When I look into the sky
And read the words I find there
Words that never lie

I want to cry, I want to shout,
Death is not what life's about
We were born to live and learn
And like a short-wicked candle burn...


X.
I saw an engineer today.  He had no name.
I backed away, afraid; he lost another friend.

Another stared, alone, at a crumbled doughnut
resting by a cold cup of coffee.
Ink stains ran a line down his chest, and
lost dreams had left a grey haze over his eyes.

Some sit drearily, gazing at forms of paper
until they lose focus and see different places.  Softer faces.
More follow.

But some are yet young.  They smile at each new challenge,
confident in their career.  They take the rachet wrench in hand
    and do not feel the dozens of hands which held the wrench before them.
    Hands that now press wearily against wrinkled heads
    that won't stop hurting.

Time passes.

The next day, the engineer's desk was empty.

Transferred.


XI.
a song
explodes
last ringing note
expires
let it go