Today, my journey was the usual,
the daily, each day heading for home,
finding home hidden from me seeing
vegetable stands in bombed buildings,
watching plywood work it’s way
to shelter me from the innocent,
locking me away with crooked beasts
who have steel pipes pulled from
the structure of nothingness, ready to
beat me thoroughly, and I stare
at the vacant parking lot with black
sewage toppings, knowing there is no
warmth, knowing it’s no home of mine
but wanting to be flattened under the
sewage and the two smashed eggs.
stillfugue 
#1 by Kay Camden on March 19, 2014 - 9:23 pm
I might have said this before. I think you and I must live in the same city. Only I’m on foot for part of my commute, and I’m lost on broken concrete and shattered glass, walking through trash swirling on the breeze.
#2 by Carl on April 10, 2014 - 9:44 pm
I love your comment. If I saw you lost on our broken concrete, I’d run up and hug you!
#3 by clinock on March 23, 2014 - 2:10 am
Apocalypse now…flattened under your words…replay…
#4 by Carl on April 10, 2014 - 9:44 pm
Thank you, John! I have big gratitude for your supportive words!
#5 by Victoria C. Slotto on April 4, 2014 - 7:27 pm
Such an intense expression of sadness, of utter devastation–both of landscape and of spirit. Good to see you, Carl. It’s been a while.
#6 by Carl on April 10, 2014 - 9:45 pm
Thank you for your visit, Victoria! I appreciate your comment.