Saturday, January 31, 2015

Saint Jude

Up before the alarm
again, throat dry,
head full of nails

each tagged with
a recipient soul,
keeping it together.

You've never noticed
the pensive man
eyes on the back

of your head as
you window shopped,
cried on a city bus

or tried to pay bills,
chin in soft hand,
the other rummaging a

deep pocket for grains
of hope, fuzzballs,
reasons to go on.

The positive error in
your checking account,
your daughter's smile

and numerous little
micro pleasures,
often discovered

after you've clambered 
off at your stop and

I've rode onwards.