| Through the Eyes of Broken Glass |
| Poetry by Mike Monroe |
| Post-Depression Depression they fixed him but he�s still broken walking along on the plateau where low can�t get any lower and high can�t get any higher days stack up like blocks in his past each block looks the same as the wall expands Evening News buy this murder downtown hey kids how about a nice broken glass the football team won the war with a hydrogen bomb robots try to sell don�t do drugs lions in the park ate microwave hot dogs a president from a foreign land drives the same car as you travel to skeletons passing out cigarettes we�re all family at this restaurant hospital bombing working mothers love medicine and coke in their nostrils hot girls with beer wear tampons guns don�t kill people eat beef for dinner prevent another heart attack by eating bland food Self Medication liquid poison medicine eyes widen at the sight of a glass of amber cold to the touch of throat hits an empty stomach mouth breathes out ecstasy another and another brain loses edge eyes lose strain a deep breath is expelled a smile appears another and another saying anything to anyone brain loses inhibitions memory dissipates Gin and Tonic she sits at the end of the bar funny, natural, nice, and beautiful I think I went out on a date with her once now the most I can get out of her is a free drink Hard On what should I do with this? he asks staring at the television strangers hump sweet sweaty girl ass curved like cupcakes a pet that needs to be fed a monster run amuck frenzied red tribal anger he�d ignore it but it can�t be ignored pumping blood into his brain like magma maybe cut off all contact become a eunuch maybe even a priest or stroke choke the breath out of it just a temporary solution Alarm Clock sleeping smash hot water hits skin morning madness legs in pants arms in shirt sleeves shoes off the floor onto feet door slams Spiritual Sleep I pray to God because I don�t know who else to pray to I know it exists I see it in the sky on my way to work and I hear it in the trees please let me have a good day today please help me find you Late Arrival all eyes are on him as he goes through the motions later than everyone else he walks through white hallways makes coffee says hello to associates walks to the bathroom takes a piss walks to his desk and sits down to point and click Day Zone a blurry grey day like driving a car through rain fog on the windshield On the Streets she struts her stuff through the central square on her way to the cheese shop to get a bagel and a cup of coffee middle aged balding man walking beside her she�s young and beautiful and has barely started life he�s old and ugly and afraid it�s too late tonight she�ll be crying in his arms The Window the grey evening sky is spread out above the horizon the moon glows across the Broadway pier moonlight gently caresses the harbor the red tugboat sits still on the water yellow lights on the side of the building read �City Pier Broadway� a man in a top hat could be dancing across the fenced-in roof singing a song from a Broadway musical then thunder cracks and raindrops begin their assault Completing the Circle one end of time meets the other like a snake biting its own tail he leaves work in search of a drink |