Ghazal

The sirens surround the psychosis of the sidewalks,

beckoning the reckoning of so many unsung faces.

I’ve lost the philosophy of a day in the wings of a moth,

swarming to the moonlight of the trees, always to leave no traces.

The anonymous unanimity of a smile stretches and splinters

To ask the desolate, disparate, downfall of man what this place is.

Put down the camera and pick up a rock, for we’ve watched in awe as

The talents of eloquent agitators go on unwanted and wasted.

Words stumble and clumsily crash in this threnody of a fantasy.

We’re all caught in the fall of a star, willing to be shocked in its reflection on their faces.