THE DISEASE
Like a frightened mollusk,
deep inside he climbs.
He is one of many,
without courage.
Self crimes,
in troubled times.
It is his nature,
to close his eyes.
Shell after shell,
fill the seas.
Weak spirits,
flow like tides.
He is in his shell,
on his knees.
Hiding from hell,
with the disease.
- June 1991 –
-----------------------------
GENERATION YAP
Tie-dye freaks.
You think.
You also know everything.
Don’t eat meat.
Make drugs legal. And free.
Save the bush-diggin’ lollywacker.
Your free-lovin’, public-trough suckin’
Signs.
Do no one. No good.
It’s just food for the bad.
What did you do?
Oh, groovy.
You never saw their faces.
Through the masks.
To do that, you must open your eyes.
But you could see their ears.
They saved your ass.
Sweating everyday.
Starting before 8 am.
Not after.
The men.
Your father.
One of them.
Remember?
His absence?
His yellow shirt?
And brown tie?
The one he wore.
While weeping.
As he watched you.
On TV.
With the cops.
And the flowers.
And the sweeping batons.
Maybe his tears.
Were of joy?
Don’t ever forget
Daddy’s heart.
Is not a toy.
- July 1991 -
------------------------------
Yellow Cobra
The sidewalk,
is unfortunately long.
For my guts,
broadcast,
an unsavory song.
Wearing orange trunks,
and sand-blistering
shoes.
I wobble,
with my surfboard,
and newfound bruise.
Deep inside,
with pain,
you beg,
crowning forth,
down,
my leg.
Maternity groans,
and ignored pride.
I simply shiver,
and
watch you,
slide.
A neighbor,
gasps,
at my mess.
You’re pretty nasty,
I must confess.
I dash away,
at her sound,
leaving you coiled,
upon the ground.
- December 1991 -
----------------------------------------------
SOMEDAY
It
happens every night.
Driving
away.
From
the light.
Nerves
fray.
When
I grieve.
One
more day.
With
every second.
I’m
further.
From
you.
With
every second.
One
becomes two.
I
cannot stand it.
You
there.
Me
here.
One
hour.
Takes
a year..
We
will be together.
I
will find a way.
Through
the weather.
Someday.
- December
1991 –
"The Collection" - (Index by Year)
Created &
Copyrighted by David J. Sperling
