Second Vision

Second Vision

Too many eyes, too many things to see.
Twin cathedral steeples, nipples
erupting from the breasts of God.
Signs falsely proclaiming pizza is both
original and Italian.
Conversations boomerang off bent elbows,
mismatched words litter avenues.
Briefcases, laptop attache cases,
bag lunches, boxes of pizza for one:
FedEx will not deliver your life
or you from it.
Clouds invade your shoes,
your pockets full of gray money,
handfuls of anxiety fall out of your hat.
Afraid to go home, afraid of the continual fear,
drowning in the comfortable couch.
Going to sleep naked,
one sheet, one blanket,
2,738 dreams you won’t remember.
Morning is a roving wolf,
eating the bones you forgot.