Wal-Mart

Wal-Mart
I need more toilet paper
More than you’ll ever give
The cosmetics on the superficially wiped-down shelves—
They’re rotten, diminutive
Insignificant
I need more

Motivational speakers
Your voices aren’t loud enough
Even clicked to a stereo which blasts in full bass
Your sounds are inferior
Barely affecting the meager minds beyond small ears
They are dull, tongueless
For I need more

McDonald’s
I asked for a million Quarter-Pounders
With everything but cheese, lettuce, meat, and bread
And you showed me the dark side of the moon
Leaving me frigid in the barren wilderness of Society
When all I needed
Was reassurance

Earth
Though your beauty is unshackled
Running full-lunged over the sweeping winds
I have yet to fill this loneliness
This loss of place, of meaning
Among all the faceless dead souls
Which ravish you, a pretty innocent bride in full ivory dress

Horizon
I need to watch and wait
I sit upon every jagged, rusted boulder on the ocean’s edge
My legs swinging, toes pointed down
Eyes wide and wet with the mournful echo of my heart’s beat—
And there’s the bird, that angel raven
Whose wings I need to steal