Snail’s hideout Sun burning long and so distant
Hermit crab scuttles predators everywhere
Rodent nervousness in the presence of non-rodent
Winter recluse, summer shame, absent spring rebirth
Incepting repulsion within the hearts of the sharks in the surf
Solitude sought to lick wounds in isolation, hopeless
Running headlong in pursuit of nothing, flight of silence
Growing old at the bottom of the pond, the last of a kind
II.
And the hive mind of a sprawling city, polluted
Insulated and insular, numb to the smiles of strangers
Nodding head, darting eyes, melodies on mobiles lie
Clenched fist, missed opportunities and melancholy
In your room searching for yourself, cut
Off from the pack, a wasp irritating the herd
Wondering about origins and normality, the power
Of tradition is a nest in the gloomy streets
III.
Fear this, he says, but all I can see is his mouth
Expelling words with the cunning of the powerful
Readjust your idea of what is good and evil, he invites
They are not us, no part of them is like us
Look no deeper, he would ask, you will discover
Nothing resembling yourself in a foreign face
Be happy in your microcosm, his eyes sincere
You cannot unbalance our equation (his face stern now)
IV.
Long shadows, hunted, watched, harried
Going out for milk has never been so hard
Vodka under green lights, talking too loud
Undercover of broken language and laughter
A hazy world to overshadow my distress, must
Stop talking leave let the tears of my heart
Softly spread their red rivers of emotion
She flew away to a copse of dark trees, I can’t follow…
V.
Leave it to history, fashion the memory
From the clay of dust and tears, I made
A mistake
If I can throw a wrench to the recesses
Of the moments given to us and pause, just pause
Reduce our time to a seed and plant it again
Bury it under the snow of this soul’s winter
So in death it becomes undying
