Poem – Sighs Of Smog

The clouds thicken
near the horizon–

I see rainbows in them,
Halos of light stretching out
from this soot city

I watch a tear slide down the
glass face of a building.

I hear a moan carried from
a subway tunnel.

I see tension carried on your shoulders
like twin caskets full of grief.

There is a world out there that doesn’t
breathe like this:
Sighs of smog,
spits, grunts, and shouts–some
good-natured, others primal.

There is a father in a boat
teaching his son to bait a hook.

There is a buddhist monk on a mountaintop
who will sit for years, ignoring the divine
panorama before him so as to
not miss enlightenment when she comes calling.

There are two eigth graders in a dusky park
relishing the passion of an adult kiss for the first time.

A person meets their soulmate and proposes
on their second date. A wedding is imminent.
A child loses her first tooth. A bird flies
out of her mouth. A chapel burns. A forest
wails. A priest breaks a vow. A drunk
driver wakes from a coma to his little sister’s
sleeping face. A birthday. A sunset. A high five.
A song screamed out open car windows in a
traffic jam because fuck any other way.

All these bubbles of existence
oceans away from each other
swimming the same current.

And maybe they exist here too.
But it’s different.

It’s different, out of shape,
shaken, stirred, blended,

looks the same but tastes different.
Until the fall of ego
Becomes purposeful humility

Like examining one’s hands
and noticing how much they’ve aged.

About brokeMC

Artist: Graphic Design, Audio Production, Photo and Film Production and Editing, Painting, Writing, and all other manner of creative indulgence. and my moonwalk is ill.
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