A World View

Dark slow sparse melodic sounds

unfold like the beauty of a dreary life

given to industrial drugs and drags and

a dim future not given to sentiment.

But there’s always hope, isn’t there?

The answer is in why you asked.

Just look out the dirty windows of the

dimly lit room, peeling paint and empty

cans on the floor, a few wooden chairs

and an old kitchen table from the fifties.

Look out into the street that doesn’t look

better than the room you’re in. Where are

the trees? Isn’t the sun supposed to be

brighter than that? What happened to 

Frank? I saw him just the other day.