Wake up. Okay,
The world is still all here.
Just checking.
Something will happen today
I feel it in my bones.
The neighbours f*ck
The dogs bark
The weather is paramount,
We are not amused.
A whore on the street sells her petals
Of life to the dead.
Men in suits sell approximations
Of death to the dying.
A baby bursts from the gut.
It's all quite the dirty business
Indeed.
Men try to look serious.
Women talk like the men
Or burden indifference like weights.
The children sit on the rocks.
Pictures of death in red crayon.
Some people are born complete.
Others are born in pieces
Like a jigsaw puzzle,
They cannot put themselves together.
Floyd Zimmerman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/great-expectations-9/
