Forgotten In Poverty

the smell of rotten tuna cans
and the wailings of children returned like empty soda bottles.

towards the passed-out father of apathy
sleeping off his inner scandals,
underneath the cars of faltering capitalist dreams
with their intoxicating fumes of human road kill.

i wish they would not look at me
with their hollow baby-doll eyes;
they sting like vinegar injections.

the smell of burnt plastic
and the stock sounds of body fluids burping to themselves.

someone's older brother had his fingers mutilated,
tortured by the ripe age of thirteen;
he drowned in his blood as he saw
the faceless men who would not wait on hold,
(any longer to however much he knew)

[...] Read more

poem by Chris Jelens
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Hourglass

there is a going to waste that befalls us:
it is not in weight gained
it is not in vices taking toll—
it is not in the drag of having to work mostly
of there being more effort than reward,
of there being more strikes than hits—
it is not in debts, mortgages and bills nesting in heads
in family feuds over paper fetishes,
in the fronting of your marriage,
in the sharing your bed with a stranger
night after night after night—
in having no children,
being infertile or having had a miscarriage,
or having your children grow up,
the proceeding losing of touch—
it is not in the gaunt look of beauty once upon a time
and the lame attempt at keeping up face
of keeping up with a dress or with a watch—
it is not in wanting prestige but not getting it,
or acquiring it, but growing numb to it,

[...] Read more

poem by Chris Jelens
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!