What May Not Exist

When the space arrived at the end
when all else that day was done
there was nothing left to do about it.

The chatter, packing and unpacking of
the business day, banter of a shallow sort,
the very pretend was the reality that capitalism brings.

Those left quietly to their own just
desserts were holding empty plates as darkness arrived.
Those moments in the background static held sway.

There are no ends they will not go
to hold onto the pittance they have
acquired and turn it round again

as it wears thin
with this rubbing about
as the nuance wears out.

The part you are left with
is the same as the one
you started out with so

long ago before you
knew what is what
and what isn’t.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *