12 Years a Fish

Proud was I to be one amongst many,
the tireless river and we, the fish.
A school of us united against any,
through life, intent, and fellowship nourished,
various desires but the same wish.
Until the day that place was robbed from me,
poached from a healthier reality,
swimming where they were sedately floating,
casting lures that shattered serenity,
passing in boats with muffled gloating.

One Act Play

The air conditioner sounds are raging
orchestrated Freon and mechanics
but the notes fall on deaf ears, just staging
to support a troupe of thoughts in panic
but their choreography is manic.
All the actors have forgotten their lines
they walk the stage like a field of land mines
switchblade feet stabbing at the wooden planks
too focused to recognize the call signs
catching angry vegetables with a “thanks”