Demo

The metal claw rips apart the old jail
and a lone man with a fire hose
keeps water raining down on
any friction out there
twisting with the rubble.
White feathers poke out
of the cut up coat
a shaking man digs through
for some change to make a phone call
at the last pay phone on Earth,
and still the crickets eat the aphids
and the aphids souls are eaten up
by smaller bugs that you and I can’t see.

Half a broken wrench looks like
a rotting bone but shiny
in that little corner between the curbside
and the road.
Ironically the statue of a homeless man
positioned on a wooden bench
prevents the walking ones from
laying down, and looking up
to see out past the buildings.

I open the glass doors of the bank too
loud and the whole room turns
their heads at me.
I walk a little slower as the awkwardness
overtakes my frantic eyes, and I let go
of my revolver and it lays there like a bone
until I scoop it up and run like hell,
away from there.
I only stop when I have made it to the ocean
and in that moment I remember, so
I begin to walk out ankle deep and then some,
and before I even realize I am face to face
with angler fish and they are lighting up
sunken treasure as far as I can see.
I know I’ll never put my hands on it
to try would just make certain that I drown.