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the trucker plagued by ghosts

he appears in front of houses
he sees everything from the superior Interstate way
he is harranged buy stark biting daylight,
he has overcome a series of demerits
he has no family, no kids; he speaks of a mother

he contests the community,
a demented man who lost a daughter spurs him on,
the man is hooked into the shoulder by a gargantuan parrot,
the parrot calls out night and day conquer
pirate and plunder

the trucker cant sleep
the trucker is plagued by misery
he discovers the owner was a woman found naked and days after
she died

the house is old,
he has put thousands in its upkeep and uptake,
he sees all in a magnificent scale and uptake as an Interstate Engineer,
he is failing, he is plagued by doubts and the shades bite him more
when he is in the house

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DON’T create HERE

everything is done big and in a bigger way
everyone seems to become perverted to theme park ways
a successful commercial artist, seemingly out of nowhere descended
upon us with ivory weeping baby-faced bats

these bats don’t return to their cave
these bats rave on suffering of causes and draped in robes
these bats have 18 wheeler truck sized eyeballs

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the librarian who was not a muscian

he thought he was
he played as if he was
he looked as if some great slumbering arctic creature awoke
with enormous chowder howling whispers

and

we linger as we watch his director dissappear
over her scuffle of a key

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the art director

she is more a council member of the city
art is for kids
once it was adults
agendas and big regional disasters drive the shows
and old cowboy artists that the shareholders wish they had
known

conniving, plotting holders of master degrees who have their own studios
have been plotting for over 30 years for a gallery take over

they come across as being democratic and creative,
and put on the the shock of creative suprise
and the look of someone else’s pain

now they are are into religion,
now they know religion needs and hungers,
they have what the falling lust after,
projects, murals,

spurred on by angelic faces,
we watch the twilight of bats turn with baby faces
into Eliot’s lavender dying sky

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the genealogist with a national agenda

he has access to all the great stuff
he lives a couple of thousand miles away
in an incredibly foreboding, dry and irritable place

he knows all the DNA connections,
he has a site that is his
he has a site that looks to be filled with surnames as party balloons

I pick one and it goes to Glacia
and another goes to Slovakia
and more to Ukraine

all the folks are finding diversity,
he is looking for sameness
and one

he is from the US
he is from a big Eastern City US
Hey!

he has a face that looks like someone’s uncle
He is on Facebook leering at us with a very consternated expression
He now is picked up by everyone out of fear

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the public library carpet that caused everyone to shuffle

no one walks on this quiet
this carpet bites and paws and claws
everyone,
even kids

this carpet
wants no one to
go

It must be lonely,
it must have
soul

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the public library carpet that caused everyone to shuffle

this carpet bites
back
this carpet has teeth
this carpet seems to hate people

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