faded
in the fertile cracks,
life danced freely, holding its bloated belly
in defiance to the yellow moon above
“you’re awful and ignorant.”
“tell me something new.”
under the hiss of neon lamps,
graffiti women sell their worn-out wares
attack with lazy offhanded swagger
here
in between the cracks,
life carries on with quiet indifference
never struggles or rushes to push
“it’s the same news again.”
“worthless information is never in short supply.”
clumsily, the universe hurls vulgarities
in car crashes, alcoholism, brutal untidy love
never ever at a loss for words
there
inside the narrow cracks,
life annoyingly raises its bull-necked head
to obscure slippery intentions
“i get the impression that you don’t care.”
“i’m still here.”
soothsayers, wanderers and faith healers wait
like tigers asleep in the cool evening shade
their twisted tongues ready to pounce
offering platitudes and promises of days
yet imagined
neglected
in the hollow cracks
the fallows of summer are trampled
“shall we mingle inside the particles of emptiness?”
“it sounds oh so very mystical but I have laundry to do.”
so much time wasted
the dead stay dead
songbirds sing
the living lurch forward
while the short grass grows,
between unforgiving, unworthy toes.
A. H. Housley is a writer from Atlanta. His debut novel Waiting Impatiently, is set for a July 2021 release. You can find him on Twitter @andrewhhousley or at www.ahh-ahh.com.