1 New Poem

Something Left Wanting

Stirring echoes raw their penmanship

in torrid currents of snowstorm

floral print against dashing backlight

of flickering cola sign, neon green

1970's embellishment.

Stucco ceilings, peeling painted walls press

against my temples in echoed percussion,

tapping like dentist drills of dripping

faucet senses in the bracketed echo of

tempest space.

A headlight procession drags on in

endless ennui, the bored-driven

gasoline streak putting in smoker's cough

torrent; I hear it ring out in open

window pane.

Unobserved, the disconnected carbon monoxide

detector wires laugh out a braying torment,

they threaten a spark, but never do:

they are red as the '68 air, a grin-smile

absent feline.

I tap morse code forms of gospel

hymns on the particle board furniture,

waiting for some sign of Freedom

July, some dusty dress shoe promise

of futures

unwritten.