SELFISHNESS


Taxi drivers
And a middle age prostitute
With school supplies
In her hands

Assembled like
A heard of cattle
With mad cow disease

Gathering of champions
At God’s threshold
Luminaries of decay
Factories of poisoned visions

Waiting for time travel
Waiting for the truth
Waiting for the unknown
Waiting for anything but this

Their journey
Will not begin with
A secret government machine
Nor with the magic
Of shamans or witches
Or Pentecostal frenzies
Or mystical steps
Or Hollywood’s New Age

Their last card
Will be pulled from under the table
From under their sleeve
From the deep
From the dark
From the place
Where the sobbing starts
From the energy of a wolf
Leaking his own blood
On a sharp knife
From everywhere but here

The middle-class ones
Will pull the trigger
The rich ones
Will slid their wrists
In a bathtub
With boiling water

The poor will use a rope
But this will not workIt will break
It will give in
To the weight
Of their failings

They will hit the floor
The stronger ones
Will attain concussions
The weaker ones
Broken bones