soot dune memories hiding malignant truths

Exhaust sand dunes flow down sidewalks.
shopping cart pushers out on the streets...
not angels, not devils, not hip hop or echoes of be bop, nothing special just sad meandering people that can be good or bad. its warm inside.

Solo conversations in the shadows, television dreams cascade down memories of time that drips out of spoons, like turpentine in your eyes. the deaf walking of the still night hawks grasping at their necks, thrashing , night sweats in a dream,
and for that first 3 minutes you feel alive and refreshed until you realize your awake.

washing my face looking in the mirro a tired cliche
sip on a coffee get it 1/2 price vefore the korean lady gets in, and the waitress working two jobs understands because she can barely make the payments.

you walk by the headlines searching for change on your way to the Super Market., Blurred Newspaper headlines, checking for change, there is a war, there is mortgage crisis, look over the towards the dumpsters and see Maria dive in for old lettuce and cucumbers, she puts them in her car. Must be living in it cause its full of shit.
The dumpster is left unlocked by a good worker willing to break a rule so people can dive in and get some old food.

buy my oatmeal and walk back khome, set it on the counterr, and stare at the hole in the drywall alone. everyone i know is dead, and my children dont know where i live cuz they are better off without me.

I throw my coffee mug against the wall at what could have been. we all have our own private hells.

but the soot dunes keep moving and the bodies keep piling up. long drag on a bad cigarette.