Reclamation

The rampant realizations are spreading
wider by the day the very way
the winter cold spreads through the windshield.
Parachute people
afraid to jump out of the plane
all just complain they are afraid,
forever falling.
I watch the workers laying bricks
to build a wall between one building
and the next. The mortar is like a mud
made from the gunk that seeps
from every boring room.
The skyline is really just an extension
of what was already there because nothing
can be separate in a world where
we were born in perfect unison.
A doctor’s note costing more than a daily
wage becomes a siphon from those with nothing
to a few all making money from their pain.
Awkward phone calls with middle management
go as well as they are able and through deception
we can claim ourselves a day.

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