soporific

a monolith of the masses
melded into a bait ball
of human flesh
and coats
and boots
and sweaty sweaters
and the fruits of all their attributes
and the smell of humid subway car
like wet dog and day old smoke
and rope and rank
the filth and stank
in particulate pieces
float through the air
and your misanthropy increases
you hold your breath
but early morn
and soporific warm
cracks wide your jaws
in great gawping yawns
and million people
you've never met
coalesce and meet in you

cabbage (verb)

you wander through the crowd
and make your marks
fresh faced and dewy eyed
naive and to the swindle, open wide
and I believed you, pettifogger,
when you said you never lied,
I excused you when my hopes denied 
and never noticed til you left,
you sneak thief, flimflam, mountebank man,
you cabbaged all my smiles
filched my heart
winkled out the joy
from which I thought I'd never part
now grown but less green
again again I start
to make my way
through this carnival
so through the throng I dart
more wary and more weary
guarding the few treasures
that remain, the bits  
you never measured
empty hands in empty pockets
and nevermore the same

vicissitude

you've gone quiet
i asked a question
silence is your answer
in this it is
a coward's answer
given the chance
given the choice
you chose alone
decided for
instead of with
it belittles
and subjects me to
the vicissitudes
of agency denied
i almost rather
that you lied
than say nothing
as in doing so
you've left me for dead
my carcass picked by vultures
of the imagined conversations
that fill the silence in my head

dynasty

atop the pyramid
they sit
and hand down
the law
golden clad dynasty
denying and distributing
at whim
we poor peasants
like pheasants
peck for crumbs
in the dust
await beneficence
barefoot and barely breathing
told that ours will come
within a season
but our success
relies on their succession
and so again comes depression

wistful

i think of how it could have been
and wistful i become
i don't know the where or when
but now the race is run
and all the words you never said
are pounding in my ears
as i lay in an empty bed
left only with my tears

genteel

as through smoked glass
all so upper class
politeness blurs all our sins
good manners attended
the occasion defended
though feeling just needles and pins
with manner genteel
we create the veneer
of beauty, perfection supreme
but under the gloss
lies a great loss
the dream that takes place in a dream

riddle

I've long given up
trying to puzzle out
others' means or motives.
I can barely discern
the riddle that is me.

All I know is,
whatever the question
the only answer is this:
love
love fully,
love heartily,
love fool-heartedly,
just...love.