Boy watches
Boy watches girl sitting on bananas–
surrounded in road signs, pin-ups, and pop-ups–
ripping CD’s and a heart far away bleeding,
making a “love-making” mix for a friend
for his 21st and last birthday.
One more cuticle from a hangnail,
as actions appoint us owners of everyone’s future;
deciding right and wrongs momentarily–
autonomous and lonely as a form-filled mailbox.
What I deserve
Do I deserve a gift, a party
for I wasn’t pushing on that day
two decades past.
Who am I to be given to?
Caring too much to dust my feet
as I slowly return to the holy city,
away from unknowns, temptations.
Just bought a hair claw to charm me when stressed?
Everyone’s unreliable, even me, (cynically, I add)
meaningless under the sun, life?
Utilitarian–not quite me,
My grace? No, it was given me free.